


Bound

by wallflow3r



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Beth Greene Lives, Beth Lives, Character Death Fix, Character Development, Childhood Trauma, Crying, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, Domestic Violence, Drinking, Erections, F/M, Family Dynamics, Fix-It, Friendship/Love, Hand Jobs, Heavy Petting, Kissing, Light Angst, Near Death Experiences, Neck Kissing, Night Terrors, Nipple Licking, Nudity, Older Man/Younger Woman, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Beth Greene, Panic Attacks, Season/Series 04, Sharing a Bed, Sloppy Makeouts, Slow Burn, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change, Unresolved Sexual Tension, bethyl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-03-26 11:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13856745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallflow3r/pseuds/wallflow3r
Summary: A lucky escape brings Beth and Daryl together closer than ever but there's only so far a person can go before they cross the line.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from or where it's going. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Thanks to LeighJ for betaing <3

When Beth opens her eyes she can just make out Daryl's face before they fall closed again. She forces them back open and tries to focus on his stubbled jaw in front of her when the pain hits.

Her ankle throbs, her wrist screams and there's a debilitating ache at the back of her skull. She tries to sit up and gasps as pain shoots down her arm. Daryl's face snaps down to look at hers. He looks as wrecked as she feels; like he's been up for days. Maybe he has.

As the world slowly comes into focus Beth realises the sturdy warmth beneath her head is Daryl's lap. In her periphery she places them in the backseat of a car. But that doesn't make any sense so she tries not to think about it too hard. The early dawn streams across his face revealing a mixture of bruises and almost fear which quickly turns to relief when his eyes meet hers.

“Daryl?” His name comes out as a question because none of this makes sense, except for him.

Her semi-conscious brain latches onto him and holds tight like he's an anchor and she'll drift away without him there to ground her. The last thing she remembers is the funeral home being overrun by walkers. Daryl telling her to go while he fought them off. Limping frantically to the road, her heart pounding. Falling. The dead getting closer, their moans getting louder. Then nothing.

“They tried to take you,” Daryl whispers, his large calloused hand pushing the hair back from her forehead.

 _Who?_ Something at the back of her mind demands, her brow creasing in confusion under his hot palm. She blinks the question back. It doesn't matter.

Daryl sounds pained and it tugs at something in her chest. His touch is gentler than she would have expected and she finds herself leaning into it.

“I stopped ‘em,” He grunts. It's only then that Beth realises the darkness under Daryl's eyes isn't shadows but bruises; deep and vicious.

Wearily, her eyes follow the motion of his Adam's apple as he swallows, then his tongue as it darts out, and catches on his split lip. His rough thumb strokes her cheekbone as his eyes bore into hers with a directness she's never seen from him before.

“I won't ever leave you again, Beth,” he says, his voice raw and solemn; drenched in promise.

She feels a smile split her face. It feels inappropriate, like laughing at a funeral. But despite the bruises and the throbbing pain, there's actual joy as she feels something slide into place that wasn’t there before. They almost lost each other, they were so close, but through some streak of luck they didn't. Instead here they are; beat to shit, cracked open raw and bound together.

 

As Daryl helps her move to the passenger seat of the car, Beth sees the bodies of what looks like two cops lying on the ground. She watches through the window as Daryl takes the gun from a man with a mean face and a snub nose. Then he's sliding into the driver's seat beside her. He hands her the gun and she takes it without question, checking the safety's on before tucking it into the back of her jeans.

Daryl drives until the sun is high in the clear blue Georgia sky. When the air starts to feel hot in her lungs, Beth rolls down her window and puts out her good arm, waving her hand up and down in the breeze. She tilts her head back, closing her eyes and feeling the sun on her face. She soaks it up; the warmth on her skin; the pleasant feeling of driving around with the windows rolled down. It’s so nice and normal that its actually jarring.

When she opens them Daryl is watching her, his eyes full of curiosity. She blinks at him and smiles, expects him to look away but he smiles back, a soft twitch of his lips before turning his face back to the road ahead.

After a few more miles they both see it; a gas station just off the road. His eyes flick to hers momentarily and then he's turning off. As the car rolls up to the pumps there's crudely written ‘No Gas' signs and a lone walker in overalls stumbling towards them.

Daryl kills the engine and hops out, putting an arrow through the walker as he makes his way around the car and opens Beth's door. She slides out, grabbing onto his shoulder to haul herself up, and pulls the hand gun from the back of her jeans. They stand there for a moment, weapons trained on the building in front of them. She can feel his sharp eyes assessing the situation and she tries to do the same.

It's a small gas station. Through the cracked window the shop front appears empty. The door is closed but an open sign hangs from it so she doesn't think it'll be locked.

“Stay here,” Daryl mutters as he steps forward, bow raised.

Beth nods, lifting her gun up and looking around. It's quiet, but that could change in a heartbeat.

Daryl peers through the glass then raps on it loudly with a closed fist. His eyes keep scanning the inside and hers dart to the sides of the building, gut clenching as they wait to find out if they're alone.

When nothing emerges Daryl pushes the door open and goes inside. Beth watches him through the window as he quickly starts to clear the room. Her eyes flick back to the sides of the building and quickly scan her surroundings like she's seen him do countless times.

When she looks back to the storefront he's gone. Ice fills her veins as her eyes dart back and forth frantically but can't find him. She stumbles forward, trying to get a closer look through the cracked glass. All she can see is empty aisles scattered with items left behind by looters. She sucks in a shaky breath and holds it, trying to push down the desperate, debilitating panic rising in her chest every second.

Her fingers tighten on the gun and she can't hear anything except her heart pounding too fast in her ears.

“Beth.”

She feels his hand on her arm and when she turns her head he's stood beside her. His eyes are narrow and his mouth is tight but his voice is soft as he repeats her name. She feels hot relief flood through every fibre of her being and suddenly the breath she'd been holding leaves her in a rush. Her arms tremble with spent adrenaline as she lowers the gun.

Daryl's eyes flick down and then back up to hers, laced with concern. He doesn't need to speak for her to hear his question.

“Couldn't see you,” she says, pleased when her voice doesn't shake, and hoping her face isn't as red as it feels.

He just nods. He knows. His eyes look apologetic as his tongue runs across his lower lip. A habit, she's noticed, and is growing increasingly fond of.

She tucks the gun into the back of her jeans and follows Daryl inside. As soon as she's over the threshold, Daryl's locking the door and shouldering a drinks fridge in front of it. If someone wants to get in then they will but at least Beth and Daryl won't be caught off guard.

Beth casts her eyes over the room; it's been looted, but not trashed. There are blood stains on the carpet and most of the food is gone. However, she can see some water in the fridge Daryl just moved and a few candy bars scattered in front of the counter. Her stomach growls at the promise of food and her mouth waters at the thought of tasting actual chocolate on her tongue.

There's one door at the front and one at the back, both now blocked by sizeable objects. There's sweat on Daryl's upper lip from the effort it took him to move the fridge, and Beth hasn't met many men as strong as him. She sighs and feels her shoulders relax. They're ok; for a while at least.

“Let's take a look at that ankle,” Daryl rumbles, his voice scratchy from dehydration and her own throat suddenly feels bone dry.

Before she's turned her head his hands are around her waist lifting her up and putting her down on the counter like she doesn't weigh a thing.  Beth feels her cheeks grow hot as he slides her boot off with one hand and pushes her jeans up her shin with the other.

His palm is hot as it wraps around her foot and she cringes because she can smell her own feet from way up on the counter, although it brings them about face to face. They ran for _days._ They haven't washed since the prison fell. Her foot stinks but he's wrapping his palm around it like he would her hand.

He pushes her foot up causing an agonising twinge to shoot through her ankle. She flinches and a yelp escapes from behind her teeth. Instinctively, she tries to pull her foot back but he holds it steady in his strong grip. His eyes lift to meet hers.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb making feather light circles on the sole of her foot. The motion should tickle but somehow it doesn't.

“Take these,” he says, pulling a medicine bottle from his pocket and opening it with his teeth. “Pain meds. Found ‘em in the back,” he grunts as he shakes a couple onto her palm.

Beth looks at the pills for a moment and then back up at Daryl.

He nudges her elbow with his fingers and she huffs a laugh before dry swallowing the pills.

“Best we wrap it up, won't slow you down so much,” he says as he shrugs off his leather vest.

Beth can feel her eyes grow wide in her head as Daryl starts to unbutton his shirt.

“Couldn't find any bandages,” he mutters by way of explanation, the tips of his ears turning pink as he makes quick work of ripping the sleeves off at the shoulder.

Beth takes in the landscape of his broad shoulders and the bared muscles of his bulging arms as they flex with each movement. The skin on his chest is so much lighter than his tanned arms. She finds herself wanting to reach out to place her hand over his heart and feel him beat under her palm.

The second he's done he hastily throws what's left of his shirt back on but doesn't bother with the buttons as he starts ripping the fabric into strips. Even under all the dirt she can see his face is burning red. Beth swallows hard, realising she must have been staring at the hard earned muscles of his body. She drops her gaze to his hands and watches them as they tense and tear the remaining fabric.

Daryl's thick fingers cradle her foot as he starts to use the strips to bind her ankle. His movements are quick, practised and she wonders who taught him how to do this. Whether anyone took the time to teach him at all, or if he taught himself.

His movements are fast but careful and when his rough fingertips graze her leg a shiver chases up the back of her spine. The softness of his touch contrasts the rough texture of his skin and it reminds her of this morning when she lay in the back of the car with her head on his lap and his fingers in her hair. She doesn't know how long they stayed like that; maybe minutes; maybe hours; maybe even days. He looked like hell but his soothing touch melted her to the core, just like now.

Too soon his hands are gone from her skin and he's tying the fabric as she bites back a whine.

“How's your wrist?” he asks, wrapping his fingers around her forearm, turning it over.

She rolls her wrist experimentally between them and winces.

Daryl hums, taking her fingers in his and pushing them back. She exhales sharply, watching him move her joint back and forth experimentally, feeling his focused gaze hot on the side of her face.

“It's fine,” he nods, letting go and using his free hands to button his shirt with a swiftness that reeks of discomfort.

Beth drags her eyes away from his skilful hands and raises them to his face.

“Thank you,” she smiles.

_For giving me the literal shirt off your back._

He glances at her through his hair and shrugs like it's nothing. On impulse she reaches out and takes his hand. She half expects him to snatch it back but he doesn't, just watches with a curious expression as she wraps her fingers around his.

“We'll stay here tonight,” he murmurs, his gnawed thumb stroking across her knuckles softly, “Take what we can find then move on. See if we can find somewhere to hole up ‘til your ankle gets better.”

Beth nods, hopping off the counter and putting weight on her ankle experimentally. She winces but it's at least bearable now.

“Let's get some rest then,” she says, sliding down the counter until she's sat on the floor, still holding his hand and letting gravity encourage him to join her.

Daryl watches her for a moment and then grabs his bow and drops down next to her. He stands his bow beside him before he leans against the counter with a weary sigh. Closing his eyes, he lets his head fall back with a soft clunk.

There's maybe an inch between them and Beth closes it, resting her head on his shoulder and letting her eyes flutter closed. She's close enough that she feels Daryl's breath catch in the back of his throat, the wide muscle of his bare bicep tense as her bare skin presses up against his, shoulder to shoulder.

He freezes for a split second and then his body turns to liquid as he lets out a slow breath. She feels his chin against her temple as he lets his head come to rest on top of hers. He's heavy but she likes it; finds the pressure a comforting reminder that he's there and he's not going anywhere. Not without her. She listens to the steady rhythm of his exhales and feels the hot streams of air against her scalp, and soon it lulls her into an exhausted sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed: Beth being taken.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth and Daryl continue to try and survive out on the road. They soon discover they're not alone out there, but they should know by now that things rarely turn out the way you expect them to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to LeighJ <3
> 
> I'm not sure how long this story is going to be but I'm enjoying writing it. Please let me know what you think!

The car gasps and shudders before finally rolling to a stop. They've been driving on fumes for an hour so neither Daryl nor Beth is surprised when the car finally gives up and stops moving.

Beth feels a little sigh of disappointment force its way out of her lungs. They've been on the run for a week now and the car has been a real life saver getting them from place to place.

Beth's ankle feels a little stronger every day, especially after a full nights rest but it's still slowing her down some. It'll be a few more weeks before she will be able to run again and her joint starts to burn after any real amount of walking.

Daryl doesn't look worried though as her eyes swing up to his and if Daryl isn't worried then she has no reason to be. He's chewing the inside of his bottom lip so he might look worried but Beth knows he's just thinking about what to do next.

He jerks his head to the side and her lips quirk as her hand finds the door handle and pushes it open. In no time at all they have moved past needing words to communicate. She follows his line of sight to the treeline and knows that's where they're headed.

Beth has always thought that Daryl has a certain wildness about him that seems almost feral and imposing when surrounded by people and walls. But in the woods it's a different story. In the woods Daryl comes into his own. He exudes confidence and calmness that Beth won't even bother trying to deny she finds attractive. Society may have gone to shit but the woods haven't changed, there are just a few more predators.

Daryl swings his crossbow onto his chest and crouches in front of her while keeping his eyes on the trees ahead. Beth grabs the small rucksack containing their meagre supplies and shoves her handgun down the back of her jeans before climbing up onto his back. She curls her fingers around his shoulders as he tucks his hands loosely behind her knees, and steps off the road.

It's not long before Beth finds herself stuck to Daryl's leather vest with sweat as the Georgia sun beats down on them with a relentless dry heat. The rucksack full of bottled water and candy soon feels heavy on her shoulders and she can't imagine how Daryl's back must ache lugging her dead weight around.

If it bothers him he gives no indication. He doesn't even seem irritated by the bugs that are everywhere; the thicker into the woods they go the worse they get. Beth grew up in Georgia, she thought she knew bugs but this is some fresh hell. They're constantly buzzing past her ears or crawling across her neck, sending violent shivers down her spine. She tries not to flinch so hard because she knows it breaks Daryl's concentration but her body objects to the presence of six tiny legs as though they were on fire.

Beth glances upwards at the trees. She hasn't seen a squirrel or a bird this whole time they've been walking. Maybe because of the heat. The ground sounds hard beneath Daryl's boots. She doesn't think they'll catch anything today, but they still have water. Daryl's constantly checking what they have and rationing it through the day. She wonders if he learnt that lesson the hard way or if someone taught it to him.

On the bright side she hasn't seen any walkers either. Maybe they've gone wherever the animals have.  The trees start to thin out and they enter a clearing. Daryl stops and Beth cranes her neck to see why.

There's a barn up ahead. Beth wiggles down off his back and Daryl immediately shoulders his bow. As she watches his arm muscles tense under a sheen of sweat she wonders if they ache. Pulling the handgun from her jeans she follows behind him, arms raised, keeping close and quiet.

When they reach the front of the barn they find the door halfway open. Daryl glances back at Beth and she halts. Waits. Casts her eyes around the area as Daryl rolls the barn door fully open. It makes a loud creak and they both watch the entrance to see if anything comes out. It doesn't. Daryl steps inside and then he's back in the doorway before Beth has finished scanning the clearing.

He nods and she closes the distance between them. It's so much cooler inside the barn and she takes a greedy lungful of the refreshing bug free air. Daryl slings his crossbow onto his back and then peels the rucksack from hers.

“Thanks,” Beth smiles, rolling her aching shoulders.

Daryl drops the rucksack onto the straw-littered floor and practically falls down next to it with a grunt. Beth carefully lowers herself down beside him, stretching her bad ankle out and resting it across Daryl's so that it's slightly raised. She pulls a bottle of water out of the bag and takes a modest sip before passing it to Daryl. He tips his head back and takes a hearty gulp before passing it back to her. They carry on like that until it no longer hurts to swallow and their cheeks are only pink from the sun.

Daryl's leaning back on his elbows, his eyelids drooping like they want to close. The usual layer of dirt on his face is streaked with sweat.

“You should have a siesta. I'll keep watch,” Beth says, pulling the gun out from the back of her jeans.

Daryl's eyes swing over to her and his face twists into a frown.

“The hell you talkin' bout, girl?” He asks, rolling onto his side to face her. Her leg nearly rolls off but he reaches out and places a hand on her calf to keep it where it is on top of his. He's looking at her like she just grew a second head.

“You should have a _nap_ ,” Beth grins.

“I ain't Lil Asskicker, you don’t gotta sing me a lullaby and put me down for a nap,” Daryl grouses.

Beth snorts. She lifts her eyes to meet his and she can tell he doesn't really mind it. There's a beat and then it hits them both, wiping the smile from Beth's face and the light from Daryl's eyes.

They don't know if Lil Asskicker got out of the prison. They don't know if any of the people they care about made it out. Even if they did, it doesn't make any difference, they'll never see them again.

Daryl looks down and away, the guilt coming off him in waves. Beth watches him as he clenches his jaw and brings a nail to his mouth, worrying it. She knows he's torturing himself, wondering if he could have done something as he chews progressively harder.

“Don't,” she whispers, reaching out and covering his hand with hers. Daryl freezes and looks at her. Barely, and behind his hair, but he looks.

“You saved _me,_ ” Beth says, holding his gaze, “I'm only alive because of what you did.”

Daryl blinks but doesn't tear his eyes away.

She smiles. “So you don't get to beat yourself up, not on my watch.”

Daryl huffs a laugh and drops his gaze to where her fingers are curled around his palm. There's something about his face -open, awed, _wanting_ \- that makes Beth think there's something going on in this room. Something that suddenly has her cheeks flushed enough to make her look like she has a sunburn. Something they can't come back from.

Then Beth's heart is in her throat as she hears a litany of gunshots being fired.

* * *

 

Daryl reassures her that the gunshots came from back on the road and once her heart has stopped trying to beat it's way out of her chest Beth suggests they go check it out. Daryl isn't keen on the idea but can't argue that it'd be better to find the owners of the guns than to be found by them.

So they head back into the woods. As they near the tree line Beth can smell smoke, as though whoever fired those shots is making camp.  Her gut twists and she steps closer to Daryl. She isn't afraid of the dead anymore but she is starting to fear the living.

Daryl halts at the tree line and Beth comes to a stop beside him. She can see smoke from the fire and hear voices. Glancing past Daryl she can make out a stocky red headed man and a slim brunette woman. They don't look like the kind of people you want to mess with.

Then another figure comes into view and it takes a moment for Beth to recognise his face but when she does her hand reaches out to grip Daryl's arm.

_Rick._

Another figure comes into view passing him and walking over to the red head.

_Glenn._

Daryl starts to walk cautiously towards the road and Beth follows him, their strides getting wider and wider as more of their family come into view.

_Michonne. Carol. Sasha. Carl._

Beth lets out a sob as they near the road and Carl turns around, revealing a baby strapped to his front.

_Judith._

“Beth!”

Her head turns just in time to see Maggie's face before her sister engulfs her in a hug.

“Maggie, oh my God!” Beth gasps, feeling hot tears roll down her cheeks and not knowing who they belong to.

She watches Rick's face collapse as he sees Daryl, stepping forward and swinging an arm around his neck.

Carl steps forward and Judith starts trying to wriggle her way out of her carrier when she sees Beth.

“Hey Judy,” Beth says softly, stroking the baby's head. Judith cries and reaches her hands out towards Beth.

“She's thirsty,” Carl says, his own voice sounding rough with dehydration as he gives his sister a comforting pat on the back.

“We've got water,” Beth says, quickly dropping the rucksack and pulling out a bottle. When she tips the bottle to the baby's mouth Judith sips the liquid eagerly.

 A smile stretches across Beth's face when she hears Carol say “come here you”, walking up to Daryl and grabbing him out of Rick’s embrace.

Rick's glassy blue gaze looks past Daryl to Beth and his other arm reaches forward to pull her in, pressing his lips to her hairline.

“Havin' you back. It's everything,” Rick says, his voice wrecked with emotion, looking at Beth and then back to Daryl.

“You're my brother.” Rick says as he presses his forehead to Daryl's for a moment and she feels a pain in her chest for what they almost lost back there.

Daryl swallows hard, biting his lip, face raw with emotion and Beth smiles, knowing his heart is soaring along with hers.

* * *

 

After being reunited with the family they thought they'd lost and being introduced to new members of the group Beth starts to feel overwhelmed. It's just been her and Daryl for so long that being around all these people, people she loves none the less, starts to feel too much.

Beth struggles to concentrate on the words pouring out of Maggie's mouth as she fills them in on the events after the prison. She takes a step back, positioning herself closer to Daryl and the back of her hand brushes his. She feels a little calmer, just knowing he's there beside her.

Beth's vaguely aware that Maggie is talking about a community called Terminus when Rosita announces that the meat is ready.

Beth smiles as the smell of roasted meat fills her nostrils but her face freezes when she notices she's the only one smiling. As she looks around the group each person looks more nauseated than the last.

She frowns at Maggie. “What's wrong?”

Maggie grimaces and looks at Glenn.

“Sasha shot down a pack of dogs,” Glenn fills in flatly.

Beth stares blankly as she feels her stomach roll over. She was raised on a farm; she knows that animals are food. The way the world is now they can't afford to turn down food, let alone get moral about what they eat. But _dogs_? It's just... grim. She thinks back to the funeral home and the stray they found there. How it probably got ripped apart by the walkers that overran the place and she actually feels sad. Its ridiculous. She just lost her daddy and she might cry thinking about a pack of stray dogs being shot and thrown in a pile.

Beth feels Daryl's thick fingers wrap around her palm.

“They're better off. Least walkers didn't get ‘em,” He murmurs, leaning in so that his words are just for her.

Beth nods. It's that or starve.

“Come on, let's sit down, I wanna hear how you an' Daryl ended up together,” Maggie says, putting her hand on Beth's arm.

Beth turns and looks at Daryl who jerks his chin in the direction of the fire. He'll be along in a minute. When Beth turns back to Maggie she's looking at her with a confused expression on her face.

The family settle around the fire and begin to eat in silence. Beth stretches her leg out in front of her and winces as her ankle throbs. They've got half a dozen pain pills left and she doesn't want to use them unless they really need to.

Maggie asks what happened to her and Beth's mind starts to spin at how she might answer that question. There are so many parts that she doesn't want to share with Maggie because they feel like they belong to her and Daryl alone. The night in the trunk. The moonshine shack. The funeral home.

Beth's thoughts are interrupted when Daryl sits down beside her. He tears a big chunk from the piece of charred mean in his hand and passes it to her. She takes it and then looks back up at Daryl.

He takes a mouthful and chews fast, swallowing hard before taking another bite.

“Tastes like cow,” He mumbles with his mouth full, saliva and meat juice dribbling down his chin.

“It does not,” Beth rolls her eyes and fights a smile.

Daryl shrugs, taking another bite.

Beth chews on the meat, chomping it between her teeth and forcing it down her throat before she has a chance to taste it.

There's something in the mood of the group that makes Beth edge closer to Daryl until she's almost sitting in his lap. Desperate. Hungry. _Broken_. Barely hanging on.

Out of the corner of her eye she can feel Maggie watching her and there's something about her gaze that Beth doesn't like but can't place.

She scrubs a hand across her face and through her hair as she starts to feel overwhelmed again. They found their family, against all odds, but instead of happy you could cut the atmosphere with a knife. She knows Daryl feels it too when his eyes meet hers, that something is off. There's a hardness in Rick's face that she hasn't seen since they first found the prison.

As soon as everyone's had something to eat the new members of the group, Tara and Rosita, along with Sasha are on their feet and itching to push on.

“You had ‘nough to eat?” Daryl asks, pushing himself to his feet.

“Enough dog? Yeah, I think so,” She says, taking his hand and letting him pull her up.

Beth steps forward on her bad ankle and the joint buckles with an agonising twinge. She hisses and grabs Daryl's arm to keep herself from falling.

Without a word Daryl scoops her up in his strong arms, bearing her weight easily. Beth wraps her arms around his neck, enjoying the feel of his hot skin under her hands.

“At what point did you start thinkin’ it was ok to put your hands on my sister, Daryl?”

Beth's head spins to find Maggie looking at them with narrowed eyes, brow furrowed and jaw set, ready for a fight.

Glenn is at her side with his head tilted to the side, his face lost somewhere between curiosity and concern.

Beth feels Daryl go stiff as a board. She glances up and he looks visibly stricken, hurt by Maggie's words as though they were the lash of a belt. His heart is pounding so fast she's worried it's about to burst out of his chest. Beth's hand closes around the back of his neck and she feels him lean into her touch.

“I sprained my ankle an' I can hardly walk on it,” Beth says, turning back and fixing Maggie with a steely look, “If Daryl hadn't been lookin’ out for me I'd have died back there.”

Maggie's mouth closes with an audible click, a mixture of guilt and sadness washing over her face that Beth takes no pleasure in. She feels Daryl's arms tighten their hold around her, unsettled by the memory of almost losing her.

“Oh,” Maggie says softly, eyes flicking between them.

“ _Sorry, Daryl_ ,” Beth fills in, her calm blue gaze never leaving her sister's.

“Sorry, Daryl,” Maggie repeats, her cheeks flushing pink, “An' thank you. For keepin’ my sister safe.” She presses her lips together in a tight line, her eyes shining with emotion. Glenn's looks from Maggie to Beth, his eyes huge and almost awed.

Daryl jerks a small nod at Maggie and grunts before looking down and away like a kicked dog. Nevertheless, Beth feels the tension start to leave his body and his tight grip on her body relax into a loose hold.

Rick comes to stand beside Daryl and his expression is pained. He drags a hand across his jaw and Beth doesn't think she's ever seen him look so beat, as though his soul is tired. Yet at the same time his eyes are wired like a man possessed. It reminds her of when he broke down at the prison after Lori and it's so unsettling she looks away, resting her chin on Daryl's shoulder.

“Maybe if we keep followin’ the road we can find some water, or at least some shelter,” Rick says quietly to Daryl, his voice low and strained.

“We found a barn,” Daryl says, sounding so sure and confident that it settles her and she doesn't miss the relief on Rick's face as it settles him too.

Daryl jerks his chin at the tree line. “C'mon, s'this way.”

With their bellies full of dog, the group follow Daryl as he leads them into the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed: The barn :(


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth and Daryl end up in a shower or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading and reviewing. I really appreciate hearing what you think as the story gets more emotionally complicated. 
> 
> Your comments got me really excited to write more of these two!! I know what you're going to say about this update. I know. And I'm sorry. I won't keep you waiting long, I promise. 
> 
> Thanks to LeighJ as always <3

When they reach the clearing, Daryl sets Beth down and mutters “wait here" before heading into the barn with Rick to check that it's still safe.

Beth feels a soothing tingle on her bare shoulder and when she turns her head she feels another roll down her nose. She holds her arms out, palms up, and feels a sprinkle of cool drops on her skin. In an instant the sprinkle grows to a shower and the solemn faces break into smiles one by one. She watches two of the girls she just met, Rosita and Tara, lie down on the ground, laughing and letting the summer rain soak through their clothes.

Carl is opening his mouth, catching rain drops on his tongue while Judith waves her chubby arms up and down excitedly. Beth closes her eyes and tips her head back, with arms outstretched she lets the summer rain wash the layers of dirt and grime from her body, revelling in the fresh feeling of water on her skin after so long. She sighs and wipes her hands down her face, welcoming the change in mood as well as the weather.

When she opens her eyes Daryl is stood frozen outside the entrance to the barn with Rick following close behind. His overgrown hair is pasted to the side of his face for once not obscuring his pale blue gaze, locked on her and _staring_ _._ He's staring at her like he’s never seen her before as the rain comes down in sheets between them. Beth feels her heart speed up. There's something in his eyes that she doesn't recognise . He’s looking at her and he looks enraptured. Beth stares back, unable to look away and feels her cheeks grow hot under the cool rain splashing down on her face.

Thunder rumbles overhead, forcing their eyes up as the heavens open and rain pours down hard from the sky. As the others scramble to get out of the down pour, Daryl steps forward and then they’re the only people left outside. Out of the corner of her eye Beth can see Rick and Maggie staring from the entrance to the barn, brows drawn in confusion as they wait for them to come inside.  Instead, Beth and Daryl just continue to stand there caught in the rain, staring at each other as they let themselves get completely drenched. Beth has always loved summer rain.

Sometimes back at the farm she would run outside and dance around in it. With the sound of rain like white noise in her ears she almost feels like a normal teenage girl again. Beth feels her cheeks ache as a grin spreads across her face and she watches Daryl's mouth curve into a smile.

Beth hears Rick shout something that gets lost in the downpour and then Daryl is closing the distance between them and scooping her up in his arms. She feels his breath catch when she clumsily wraps her arms around his neck, slips and brings her mouth just a breaths distance away from his. He's held her like this countless times but suddenly there's something between them that feels as charged as the storm brewing above. In a few short strides they’re back in the barn and Daryl is setting her down before turning to help Rick secure the door.

Beth can feel Maggie's eyes drilling holes in the side of her face as she tries to swallow down the excited fluttering feeling in her stomach. She smiles as she watches Daryl stand back from the door, spraying water everywhere as he shakes his head from drenched to dripping. Her smile fades to a mere curve of her lips when her eyes meet Rick's to find him watching her intently.

She ducks her head, feels her cheeks flush and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She suddenly feels self conscious, as though maybe she isn't supposed to be watching Daryl, and she doesn't like that feeling. She thinks she liked it better when it was just her and Daryl and she could keep her eyes on him and it wasn't weird. It was comforting knowing he was there but now under Rick and Maggie's narrowed gaze she feels several shades of uncomfortable. She just got her family back and she must be a terrible person because all of a sudden she just wants them all to leave so that it can just be her and Daryl again.

“C'mon let's get a fire goin',” Daryl says, his eyes sweeping the room in a way that Beth knows will catch anything they can use , “It's startin' to smell like wet dog in here.”

Beth snorts and one side of Daryl's mouth slides up. Rosita and Tara help by gathering dried wood from inside the barn. Daryl won't let Beth help, telling her to _sit her ass down_ and rest her _damned ankle_ , so she rolls her eyes and goes to sit with Carl and Judith. Beth gives the baby some more water and feeds her the last candy bar from her rucksack. As Daryl gets the fire going the rest of the group start to gather around it. Soon Judith’s rubbing at her eyes and without realising it Beth starts to sing her a lullaby.

Beth glances up to find lots of eyes watching her including Daryl's and before he can look away their eyes catch. Hold. Burn with a heat that has nothing to do with the fire he's building.

When she finishes singing Judith’s soft snores fill the silence. Daryl drags his eyes away from her then, looking as though it takes real effort to do so and heaves himself up to his feet.

Beth drops her gaze to the baby in her arms and strokes a hand across her crown. She didn't think she'd ever see those little pink cheeks again and she feels tears standing in her eyes as she watches the baby's eyelids flutter in her sleep.

“I'll take her,” Carl says softly. Beth carefully passes the sleeping baby into his arms and watches him take her over by the wall, laying her down gently on a blanket before curving his body around her.

She blinks and feels tears spill from her eyes, quickly rubbing them away with the heel of her palm. _It's just this day_ she thinks as more tears replace the ones she wipes away.

“Hey,” Daryl's wide hand cups her jaw and turns her face to where he's now sat beside her. He looks worried, his eyes raging like the sea as they scan her face.

“It's nothin',” she says quickly, blinking the tears away but they only roll down her cheeks.

He bites his lip as his thumb wipes the water from beneath her eye. She feels his rough callouses glide across her skin as he blinks and looks like he's tying himself in knots over what to say to her. What he doesn't realise is that he doesn't need to say anything at all. Just having him there, at her side, brings her back to whatever passes for ok these days. She draws in a shaky breath and swallows, looking up at him. He tilts his head, looking a little less distraught as he senses her mood shift.

Without saying anything, or giving two fucks about Maggie’s or Rick's watchful eyes, Beth leans forward and buries her face in Daryl's neck. She hears a small gasp from somewhere around the fire and Daryl freezes. Beth fists a hand in the front of his shirt and holds her breath. There's a beat. Two. And then she feels Daryl's hand come to land on her back. She smiles against his throat, feels his hot palm moving back and forth across her back, and slides out of consciousness.

* * *

 

A few days later the group find themselves walking into a community with _walls_ , seemingly untouched by the turn inside. It's surreal, like going back in time. Daryl's back is up the moment the gate closes behind them and he starts hunching in on himself like a caged animal.

The community's leader, Deanna, insists on interviewing everyone separately. But when it comes to Beth's turn she looks at Daryl and he follows her in. Deanna doesn't ask him to leave, merely regards him with raised eyebrows and seems intrigued.

She gives them houses, big beautiful houses, _plural_ , but the group settle themselves altogether in one room. In the Alexandria Safe Zone they have hot running water and food to spare. They don't, however, seem to understand the real value of those things and the whole place starts to remind Beth of playing house when she was a little girl.

The luxury of a hot shower and fresh clothes isn't lost on the group though and soon they begin taking turns to scrub the dirt from their hair and brush the plaque from their teeth.

There's even a travel cot waiting for them in the house and Beth settles Judith down in it before joining Daryl where he's stewing on the floor under the window. He looks decidedly uncomfortable, tightly wound and gnawing at his fingers.

“Shower’s free,” Rosita announces, running a towel through her hair as she comes down the stairs. “I can't remember the last time I had a hot shower, that was better than sex.” She moans, causing Abe's head to spin around.

Beth drags a hand through her own hair and grimaces. She can't remember the last time she had a hot shower either, the showers at the prison were warm at best, and she's not about to pass up the opportunity. Beth stands and she isn't halfway across the room before Daryl gets up and follows her. There's a lull in the murmured conversations of the group as Beth heads up the stairs, with Daryl close behind.

On the landing Beth sees Tara coming out of a bedroom. Maggie told her that Tara helped Glenn find her. She also told her that Tara was part of the group led by The Governor that killed her daddy. Beth forces a thin smile across her face. Tara smiles back, then freezes as her eyes travel past Beth's shoulder, catch sight of Daryl and grow wide.

As they cross paths Tara reaches out and grabs Beth's arm.

“Just because you owe him your life it doesn't mean you owe him your body as well, _”_ she whispers, looking Beth in the eye, her gaze an attempt at caring but coming in at pitying. She knows what Tara sees, just a helpless little girl that needs saving. But that's not her, and that's not this. This isn't something she needs saving from, it's something that's saving her.

Daryl looks down, shame colouring his face. What he doesn't look is surprised, as though the suspicion is expected, maybe even _deserved_. But he does look hurt, his eyebrows knitting together in a deep frown. His jaw tenses as though he is physically offended at the thought of Beth giving herself to him out of some kind of _obligation_.

Beth feels her blood boil in seething fury.

“What's your problem?” She hisses.

Tara gapes at her, as Beth jerks her arm away.

“My daddy says only God can judge a person,” Beth looks Tara hard in the eye, her gaze sharp enough to cut, “or at least that's what he _used_ _to_ say.”

Tara reels back like she's just been slapped as Beth straightens her gaze, steps past her and into the bedroom. When Daryl follows a moment later he glances at her and glances again like he wants to say something but can't find his voice. Being told to shut the hell up your entire childhood will do that to a person. Beth sighs and shakes her head, suddenly feeling exhausted. She busies herself with finding fresh clothes from the drawers as Daryl stands in the middle of the room growing more uncomfortable by the second.

Holding a pile of clothes under her arm Beth walks up to the bathroom door and stops. Her hands tighten into fists. She takes a long breath, pulls the door open and takes a step inside. It's so _clean._ Beth's sense of taste and smell had become desensitised to the stench of the world around them but she's wholly aware that this room smells nice. Only it's _too clean_ and it smells _too good_ and Beth's stomach clenches as she half expects a walker to emerge from the bath tub. It doesn't. _That_ would be normal. _This_ is starting to creep her out.

She looks back over her shoulder at Daryl. His face is flushed and he's worrying his lip. He looks about ready to bolt when his eyes meet hers. She thinks it should surprise her but it doesn't when he steps forward and joins her in the bathroom. She closes the bathroom door behind them and locks it, as Daryl glances around the room before leaning himself against the sink.

He tries to make himself as small as possible, pressing back into the porcelain bowl and hunching forward as he sets his crossbow down on the white tiled floor. Beth smiles when she sees the trail of muddy foot prints leading to Daryl's boots.

Beth drops the pile of clothes on the toilet seat next to him before reaching into the shower and turning the water on. Daryl looks down and away as Beth kicks off her boots and peels the dirty clothes from her body. She moans, making Daryl twitch, as she steps under the spray and feels the hot water beat down on her bare chest . She ducks her head and watches the water turn brown as it swirls down the drain, taking weeks worth of dirt with it. As she watches the water turn clear again a thought occurs to her and before she can second guess herself she's sticking her head around the shower guard.

Daryl's head lifts up from where it's hanging between his shoulders and before he can look away her eyes catch his.

“You should come in too,” she says.

Daryl blinks and shifts against the sink. He looks ready to fly out of his own skin.

“If you want to,” she smiles, “It won't be weird.”

Beth feels her face flushing under Daryl's blank stare so she disappears back behind the shower guard and steps under the spray. The water is as hot as it was a moment ago and she starts to wonder how on earth that is possible before reminding herself that it's just indoor plumbing not witchcraft.

Then Beth's breath catches in the back of her throat, feeling heat against her back as Daryl steps into the shower behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed: Daryl not taking a shower


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth and Daryl take a shower and it takes a turn that is both inevitable and unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your awesome comments on the last chapter!! I love reading your insights into the story and your encouragement really inspired me to write this chapter. 
> 
> So, as promised, here's a quick update. It may or may not be what you wanted/expected from these two so I'm a little nervous. Still, please let me know what you think!
> 
> There aren't enough thanks in the world for my kick ass beta LeighJ. You are forever my favourite writer and my friend <3

Beth turns her head to look at Daryl over her shoulder and he freezes. He's staring her so hard in the face that Beth knows he's deliberately not looking at her naked body. Beth smiles gently and steps out of the spray. She tries to steady the thrum of excitement she feels fluttering in her stomach as Daryl stands nervously at the edge of the shower.

For Daryl's sake she turns her attention and her body to the various soaps and shampoos behind her. As she picks up a bottle at random, she finds herself smiling when she hears Daryl step under the spray. Squeezing a generous amount of shampoo onto her hand she begins lathering it into her scalp. Beth doesn't move her head any more than it takes to sneak a glance at Daryl, naked and suffused in water.

Beth's hands freeze in her hair and for about a minute she just stares. His face is turned up into the spray, the water slicking his hair back and revealing his closed eyes, stream pouring directly onto his face. Beth's eager eyes follow the water as it rolls down his thick neck to his broad shoulders and bounces off his rugged chest. Her gaze falls to his impossible arms, corded with hard-earned muscles. Arms that scoop her up easily and close around her protectively, now the sight of them causes heat to pool at the base of her spine.

Beth is steadily following the water as it trickles down Daryl's taught stomach when he opens his eyes. Her eyes flick up to his and when their eyes catch the heat at the base of her spine flares out until she feels it across her entire body. She blushes intensely, blinking several times as the shampoo rolls down her forehead into her eyes and starts to sting.

Daryl takes a step back and she steps forward, ducking under the spray and rinsing her hair. When she pulls her head back and opens her eyes Daryl is watching her, staring like he did the last time sheets of water fell between them, the same enraptured look on his face. She swallows and watches as his eyes follow the movement down her throat.

“Your turn," She says, her voice coming out a little husky, enough for her to hope he doesn't notice. But of course he does, Daryl notices everything.

Beth reaches behind her and grabs the shampoo bottle. She holds it unassumingly between them and Daryl almost seems confused looking at it. “Can I?” She asks.

Daryl grunts and Beth knows that's the closest thing to a yes she's going to get.

She fills her palm with shampoo and then reaches up on her tip toes and begins lathering it into his hair. After about a minute Daryl's eyes drop to her chest and she watches with fascination as a blush spreads across his cheeks and down his neck. She feels his breath come out in unsteady pants across her cheek, like he's finding it hard to breathe.

Beth had always felt embarrassed about her chest, or lack there of. Prayed that she would fill out so that she might be desirable some day. But stood here under Daryl's heated gaze she doesn't feel a shred of embarrassment. She doesn't feel lacking in any way. If she could bare more of her flesh to him she would in an instant just to watch his eyes devour it inch by inch.

Her hands drop to his shoulders and she guides him under the spray. Daryl blinks and looks back up to her, pupils blown wide with barely caged need.

Beth looks at him and exhales slowly. She puts her hand on Daryl's cheek, moving forward and joining him under the spray. Stroking his cheekbone with her thumb, Beth watches his eyes flutter like they want to close. The tension in his shoulders releases and suddenly he moves forward, pressing his wet lips solidly against hers.

Daryl's lips are softer than she expected them to be and she's only just beginning to respond when he pulls away. He stays close though; leaning his forehead against hers, hands coming to spread lightly across her back, his solid arms bracketing hers under the spray.

“This ok?” He murmurs, his eyes searching hers.

“Yeah,” she smiles, leaning in, and feels the shiver run through Daryl's body when her hard nipples brush his chest.

Daryl's large rough hand comes up to cup the back of Beth's neck, pulling her forward and covering her mouth with his. Beth returns the kiss enthusiastically, her tongue licking deep into Daryl’s mouth. His calloused fingertips tighten on her bare flesh as she draws his tongue into her mouth to suck on it. A moan surges from the back of his throat, sparking pleasure between her thighs.

When they come apart they're breathless. Beth's hands are holding onto Daryl's biceps as if they're the only thing keeping her upright. She thinks they might be.

She feels his stubbled cheek scratch her jaw before he presses his mouth into the crook of her neck, and when he does she closes her eyes and holds on tighter. He mouths his way down her throat and each lash of his tongue sends a wave of pleasure rolling down her spine until she groans loudly in Daryl's ear.

Daryl trembles, his hands tightening into a death grip around her waist. He makes a sound that starts out as a whine and ends as a growl against her shoulder.

She gasps when Daryl's hard cock brushes against her inner thigh.

Feeling the moment Daryl goes rigid with panic, Beth quickly cards her fingers through his hair so she can pull him forward and kiss him.

“Beth, I'm sorry, I didn't-” Daryl whispers against Beth's open lips until her tongue in his mouth shuts him up.

Beth is almost surprised when Daryl reciprocates, wrapping his arms around her more fully and pressing his mouth against hers as though he can't get close enough. She can't either, grasping at his neck, cheeks, shoulders and pressing her forehead against his as she breathes in the air from his lungs. When they pull apart their chests are racing wildly yet they simply hold each other and catch their breaths. Even once they've caught them, neither Beth nor Daryl make any attempt to move from their tight embrace.

“We should be getting back,” Daryl murmurs against her temple.

Beth hums in agreement, suddenly becoming aware that the water is starting to run cold. They must have been in the shower for some time, and she's almost surprised that Maggie isn't knocking the door down.

Daryl reaches past Beth and turns the shower off. She feels his dick still hard against her hip but she knows he doesn't expect her to do anything about it. She doesn't offer because it doesn't feel like this is how it's supposed to happen.

Her thoughts are interrupted as Daryl's large rough palm smooths her hair back from her forehead and he kisses her again. Not like the last kiss, not hot and heavy and demanding; just a press of lips to lips, quick and familiar, like a habit. And because she's allowed to now, or at least she thinks she is, Beth turns her head to flutter a kiss against Daryl's palm. Daryl smiles, not just a curve of his lips but a real, full smile that stretches his face and brightens his eyes. Beth feels her own face grow warm under the light of it.

He steps out of the shower and grabs two towels, bundling her up in one before patting himself dry. They're in a happy haze as they dry off and get dressed. Once they're dressed they brush their teeth. Their eyes catch from time to time, unable to keep their eyes off each other just as neither one of them can stop smiling.

Daryl grabs his bow and Beth's hand before unlocking the door.

They both freeze when they step out of the bathroom to find Rick sat on the bed waiting for them.

* * *

 

Rick stares, eyes darting from their damp hair to their linked fingers and widening like he can't believe what he's seeing.

Then Rick's gaze drops, zeroing in on where the fabric stretches just right, outlining Daryl's hard cock. He seems confounded by it, as though it shouldn't be there, grazing the front of Daryl's jeans.

Rick glances back up at Daryl's face, then clears his throat as gently as he can.

“So,” Rick says. Daryl's hands twitch at his side as though wanting to bring them up. To defend himself, Beth realises. In the fight he expects to come. Rick huffs a laugh nervously, dragging a hand across his jaw. “People are _concerned-"_

“I'm eighteen, _Officer_. We ain't breakin’ any laws.”

They all seem shocked, Beth included, when Beth is the one to speak.  All eyes fall on her and she feels her face grow hot under them.  

“No, I guess not,” Rick frowns, and she doesn't miss the way that his eyes flick to the front of Daryl's jeans again.

He sighs, leaning forward and scrubbing both hands across his face. He looks like he doesn't want to be there. And he's not the only one. Daryl is vibrating with anxiety. His mouth twitches as he chews furiously at his bottom lip, knuckles bone white against his trembling fists.

“I think y'all have bigger problems than me an' Daryl,” Beth says.

Rick blinks and if she didn't know any better she'd say he looks a little impressed.

He nods, glancing at Daryl who doesn't look at him before swinging his eyes back to Beth.

“We do,” He agrees, leaning forward and clasping his hands between his knees.

Rick stares at Beth for a long moment, steadfastly ignoring Daryl now, and Beth swallows, trying not to falter under the scrutiny of his intense blue gaze. She suddenly feels like she's under interrogation by Atlanta's finest.

“I know you found something back there,” he says finally, “I think it's just going to take people some time to get used to... _whatever this is._ ”

Rick gestures between them and Daryl looks up then, following the motion.

“They better,” Daryl mutters, finally looking Rick in the eye, chin up in challenge but gaze almost hopeful.

Rick nods and Beth lets out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding, feeling Daryl's death grip on her fingers loosen.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed: Daryl losing something back there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth and Daryl are reunited with the group and settling down in the Alexandria Safe Zone but getting back to normal might be harder than it looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you for all your kick ass comments. Your insights into the story are such a boost and motivate me to explore dynamics I hadn't thought of. 
> 
> Secondly, I realise as this thing takes shape that my main driver is to fix things from the show that I didn't like. From little things to big things and so this is becoming a real Fix-It fic! In the end notes I'm going to put the things I've aimed to fix, which I've also backdated for the previous updates. Let me know if you spot any fixes I don't list because LeighJ keeps finding them too!
> 
> Lastly, but by no means least, thanks to LeighJ for being my number 1 fan, writing coach, confidant and all around bestie. You rock!

Beth and Daryl follow Rick back down the stairs to the room with their people camped in every corner and lying on every stretch of floor. As they descend the staircase, every eye in the room swings to them and Beth feels the weight of their gaze like a physical presence. Daryl bristles and casts a quick glance around the room as though assessing a threat, then keeps walking, out the door and onto the porch.

Beth's eyes fall to Judith, awake and looking back at her with sleep glazed eyes and furrowed brows. She's not whinging _yet_ but Beth knows that face; in a minute she will be. After a year of caring for the little girl like she was her own, _loving_ her like she was her own, she learned all her cries and her cues. Then she learned them all again when they changed. She’s a resilient little girl; she's had to be. But she's still just a baby. Who could blame her for getting upset? She's woken up to place she doesn't recognise and an atmosphere you could cut with a knife. Beth's eyes swing to Carl, slumped beside the cot. Even asleep he looks exhausted.

Keeping her gaze straight ahead, Beth crosses the room and takes the baby into her arms. Rick nods his head and presses his lips into something like a smile as she passes him on her way out to the porch. She finds Daryl lent against the railing, a cigarette hanging between his lips, glaring out at the eerily untouched neighbourhood.

His shoulders are raised and rigid, and she finds herself wanting to reach out and stroke the tensed muscles, will them to relax. He wears his anxiety as a physical ache, tightly winding his muscles until they're as stressed and sore as his thoughts. Her fingers twitch as the need to soothe him pulls at her. Her stomach tightens as she walks the thin line between needing to be there for him and allowing him room to breathe; forever wondering if she got it right. 

What they shared upstairs is the most intimate she's ever been with another person.  _Whatever this is_ between her and Daryl, it's beyond desire; they shared more than just their bodies under the spray up there. Feeling a strand of wet hair fall against her shoulder, Beth remembers the feel of his lips on her skin and swallows hard as a shiver climbs her neck. Both at the memory and the promise of what's to come.

She wonders what bothers him more: being trapped behind these walls or the ever present stares that now follow them. Beth is trying her level best to ignore the staring and not let it bother her. She's trying , but the constant feeling of being watched, of _knowing_ your every move is being scrutinised, is draining. It's starting to stress her out, and that's coming from a place where she thinks she's at least a likeable person. Unlike Daryl who has the world's biggest chip on his shoulder and has convinced himself that everyone thinks he's a piece of shit. They don't, not anymore at least, but he can’t see that. There's no way to separate the two and the end result is the same; claustrophobia.

He looks way past uncomfortable; he looks ready to tear his own skin off. She knows every fibre in Daryl's body is urging him to bolt just as she knows that he won't. Beth lowers herself onto the swing on the other side of the porch, giving him room to stew. She knows he's seen her even though he hasn't looked up.

Swinging back and forth, Beth holds Judith against her shoulder, rubbing her back in time with the swing. The baby fists a hand in Beth's shirt, silently watching Daryl. After a moment or two Beth feels Judith's body relax, becoming a dead weight in her arms and watches as Daryl’s shoulders slowly sink back into his torso.

A smile twists her mouth as she watches Daryl drop his cigarette butt onto the porch and uses the heel of his boot to grind it into the decking with unnecessary force. Daryl's eyes flick up to hers and when they catch she feels her smile broaden. She watches as his scowl falters and his face softens when his eyes drop to the sleeping baby in her arms.

He starts to push off the railing when their attention is drawn to a figure approaching the house. They both tense, reaching for their weapons before they realise it's just Deanna.

“Sorry to startle you,” she says as she climbs the porch steps, smiling first at Daryl and then Beth. When her eyes drop to the baby her entire face lights up.

“I didn't think I'd ever see one of those again,” Deanna says softly, tilting her head and gazing at Judith with wide, mesmerised eyes.

For a moment they all just watch Judith, admiring the gentle sight of a sleeping baby. The thought that it might be for the last time makes Beth's arms tighten and a chill run down her spine.

“She takes after your husband a lot, doesn't she?” Deanna says, swinging her eyes over to Daryl and regarding him for a moment before turning her attention back to Judith.

Daryl gapes at her and then his head snaps up to look at Beth.

“I hope not,” Beth says, one side of her mouth sliding up as she holds Daryl's incredulous gaze, “’Cause she ain't ours.”

Deanna tilts her head, looking between them with wide eyes, “I'm sorry, I just assumed...”

“Don't be,” Beth shakes her head, “Judith is Rick's daughter.”

“And her mother?”

Beth looks at Daryl; sees him look down and away, bringing a nail to his mouth and worrying it.

“She died when Judith was born,” Beth says, feeling a wave of sadness knock the breath from her lungs as she remembers Lori.

Remembers how the woman she'd grown close to out on the road died unexpectedly and painfully in childbirth. Feels her mouth turn down in a sharp frown as she remembers how Rick fell apart right in front of them.

Then she remembers something else.

“Daryl made sure we didn't lose her baby as well,” Beth says, smiling when Daryl looks up to meet her eyes, “He got the formula that saved her life.”

Daryl looks away then with a grunt and a dismissive shrug.

“Is that what you do then, Mr. Dixon?” Deanna asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

Daryl glances at her and their eyes catch. He flushes under her scrutiny and is about to look away when she smiles.

 “You save people?”

The only sound is the swish of the porch swing. Deanna and Daryl are staring at each other, unblinking.

“Yes he does,” Beth says, smiling as both their eyes swing to her.  

She hears Daryl breathe out in a gush and when her eyes meet his they're wide and flickering.

“Then we're lucky you're here.” Deanna says reverently, “Welcome to the Alexandria Safe Zone.”

* * *

 

The next day Rick decides it's okay for the group to split off into separate houses. He doesn't trust Alexandria, with it's untouched streets and it's unnervingly clean residents, that much is clear but he also doesn't see them as a threat. So, they grab their packs and spread out.

“Come on,” Maggie says, linking her arm with Beth’s and leading them into one of the houses. Beth glances back to see Daryl following her, glaring through his hair as he climbs the porch steps.

Glenn heads upstairs and they all follow him onto the landing. As Beth watches Daryl traipse mud across the immaculate cream carpet she begins to wonder if he's deliberately stomping through the flower beds as a fuck you to their new neighbours.

Beth pushes one of the doors open, registers the double bed and the ensuite before turning back to Maggie.

“We'll take this one,” Beth says, tilting her head towards the bedroom.

Glenn and Maggie’s heads snap sideways as Daryl disappears through the doorway, followed by Beth who pulls the door shut behind her with a click. Daryl crosses the room, but doesn't stop, pacing around the edge with his jaw clenched.

Beth steps inside, dropping her rucksack at the end of the bed as she goes and casting a glance around the room. She's so used to staying in houses that have been picked clean or witness to a blood bath that she finds herself staring at the perfectly made bed in fascination.

“This place is a fuckin' joke,” Daryl mutters, pulling at a loose thread on the curtain.

“Oh, I don't know,” Beth says with a shrug, “I don't think it's _all_ bad.”

Daryl snorts and before he can say anything Beth jumps up and lands on the bed with a loud squeak. The padded surface sinks beneath her boots before immediately springing back and throwing her upwards. She rides the wave of the mattress before bouncing again, higher this time. With a giggle, Beth lands on her ass and looks up at Daryl. He's staring at her like she's got a screw loose.

 _“I have never_ jumped on a big ass bed before,” Beth says with a grin. She jumps again, driving another sound from the bed springs and this time when she looks up Daryl is smiling too.

The bedroom door suddenly flies open and Maggie tumbles inside, wide eyes darting around frantically.

Beth and Daryl's heads snap in her direction and she stares back at them, flushed and biting her lip.

“I was just wondering what y'all were doin',” Maggie says weakly, seemingly perplexed by Beth sat in the middle of the bed, and Daryl stood on the other side of the room.

Beth's glances up at Daryl and when their eyes meet there's a beat and then they both start to laugh. Beth feels a few more waves of laughter bubble up and watches through watery eyes as Daryl's chest shakes and he ducks his chin into his shoulder.

“Huh, I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before, Daryl,” Maggie says, sounding stunned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed: Daryl having a room in one of the houses and not sleeping on the goddamn porch or wherever.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth and Daryl never make it to the welcome party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having so much fun rewriting the show the way I wanted it to be. I hope you enjoy it too! 
> 
> Thanks to LeighJ for betaing <3

When Beth walks into the bedroom with her arms full of clothes and kicks the door closed behind her she finds Daryl scrunched in on himself by the window. He's scowling at the low sun as though his hostility might prevent it from setting.

“Here. Put these on,” she says holding out a change of clothes.

Daryl glares at the offering. “Why can't I wear my own damn clothes?”

Beth suppresses a smirk as she rakes her eyes down Daryl's body and takes in the blood stained vest and jeans still stiff with dirt from weeks on the road.

“Because Carol wants t' wash ‘em. She said she's gonna hose you down if she has to,” Her mouth does slide up at that because she's not entirely sure if Carol was joking or not, but she doesn't think Daryl wants to find out.

He snorts, frown faltering slightly.

She nudges the pile of clean clothes at him.

“C'mon, you don't wanna mess with her. She's a mom.”

Daryl huffs a sigh and takes the bundle. Flashing him a wide grin, Beth turns on her heel and takes her own clean outfit into the ensuite.

Without anything to unpack, Beth and Daryl had followed Maggie back downstairs and into the kitchen. They were greeted by the mouth watering aroma of real coffee that Glenn had found along with a welcome note from Deanna. It also told them she was hosting a party in their honour tonight so that they could meet the rest of the community. Daryl frowned into his cup of black coffee while Glenn huffed a laugh saying he couldn't remember the last time he went to a _party_. Beth felt her stomach tighten with anxiety and she instinctively moved closer to Daryl, feeling comforted as her leg pressed against his.

The idea of being around people and being the centre of their attention fills her stomach with dread. She doesn't know how to act normal, like before. Unsure how to feel, she looked at Daryl. He met her gaze, scrunching his face up like a bad smell had filled the air and pulling a dry laugh from her throat.

Real coffee and parties. The change of pace kind of knocked the wind out of them and for a while they just sat there in silence. After downing his coffee, Daryl shoved off the counter and grunted something about a possum before stalking off to the porch.

Once they'd  finished theirs, taking their time, Maggie and Beth explored the cupboards in the kitchen to see what they could use. They kept exchanging looks at the volume of canned and dried goods. There was enough food in there to feed their entire family for a fortnight. Beth even spotted a jar of a peanut butter and felt a grin stretch her face until her cheeks ached.

“Since when do you like peanut butter so much?” Maggie asked, giving her a strange look.

Beth has simply rolled a shoulder. “Jus’ need some diet soda an' pigs feet an’ we'll have ourselves a white trash brunch.”

Maggie smiled back, her eyes narrowing like she wanted to ask something but thought better of it. _Good_ , Beth thought. She didn't want to explain what a white trash brunch is to her sister. She wouldn't get it anyway. Beth didn’t think she’d even want her to.

After the kitchen they explored the bathrooms and then the wardrobes. That's where Beth found the clothes they're currently changing into. Not just any old clothes either. She'd found jeans and shirts, even socks and underwear, that would fit both her and Daryl, and relocated them into their bedroom.

But she also found a dress. A blue sundress, with spaghetti straps and the skirt falling just above the knee. Perfect for the sticky Georgia heat. She can't remember the last time she wore something as pretty as this dress.

Undressing quickly, she pulls the dress over her head and looks at herself in the mirror. She smiles. It's a little loose around the chest perhaps but that's nothing new. The idea that she used to care seems ridiculous now. She's learnt to see her body as functional and not decorative, because looking _pretty_ doesn’t mean much if you're dead. She swirls, watching the skirt flare out in the mirror, and then carefully combs the knots out of her hair. Loose, washed and knot free, her hair hangs down to her waist in big golden waves. She runs her fingers through it for a moment, enjoying the feeling.

Looking back at her in the mirror is a girl she barely recognises. She sees what the world sees: just a pretty young girl in a sun dress. That's who she was, but that's not who she is now. Out there she faced the world as it is now, and that world squeezed her until she turned into something harder. Daryl didn't keep her from it, he didn't shield her like a child.

He handed her the bow and he showed her how to protect herself. He showed her that she _could_ protect herself. That she _could_ be strong. She can never thank him for it, and he wouldn't want her to. But he has a way of bringing out the strength in people, even if they don't believe it's there. He did it for Carol. He does it for Rick. Now he's done it for her. _But what keeps him strong?_  Casting her eyes down herself in the mirror it's the first time she's really seen herself in a while. She's leaner now, all the softness to her limbs replaced with pure muscle. She made it. She _is_ strong.

Putting the brush down she turns and pulls the door open, stepping back out into the bedroom. Daryl's head swings to face her from where he's stood in front of the window and they both freeze. His eyes widen as they track down her body and she's sure hers do the same.

The clean shirt hugs his chest, making him look impossibly broad, the sleeves clinging to his bulging muscles. But his eyes steal her attention away from his hulking frame as they flare, completely enraptured once again. She feels his gaze roll down her body and heat flares up her spine with each weighted second.

“You're beautiful,” Daryl whispers, so low it's barely audible but Beth catches it and a smile works it's way across her face.

“Thank you,” She whispers back, feeling her cheeks grow hot. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Mr. Dixon.”

Daryl huffs a laugh and looks away. Without the usual layers of dirt to hide behind, Beth watches him flush and all of a sudden there's tension in the room that she can't place.

“I guess we should get goin'," Beth says, hands twitching nervously at her sides.

Daryl grunts in response, his eyes flicking back to hers before trailing down her body, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he pulls his eyes away almost guilty. He looks down, scuffing his boots on the carpet, leaving traces of black on cream.

Beth mouth twists. Clean shirt. Clean face. Same boots. Same Daryl. She wouldn't change him at all. Not one bit.

* * *

 

They walk down the street in silence. Beth follows a step behind and Daryl's darting eyes never settle; habits they can't shake. She's almost surprised he left his bow, but not at all surprised to find him a little lost without it. Every now and then she catches him rolling his shoulders with a twist of his mouth, as though missing the ache.

When Deanna's house comes into view they both come to a stop. The windows are lit and people are actually standing on the porch, their voices carrying down the street. Little mistakes like that would get you killed on the road and Beth feels her shoulders tense, her body registering the danger as her mind reels. It's dark; they need to get inside, board the windows and keep quiet until morning. Pray there is a morning.

Except that they don't.  

Beth takes in a deep breath and then releases it slowly, relaxing her shoulders. She feels Daryl's gaze on the side of her face but she doesn't turn to meet it, doesn't need to. These people don't know they're born, behind these walls with their canned goods and their unboarded windows.

Yet they are the ones that are supposed to walk in there and present themselves, to gain favour or approval and fit in to this shit show. Her hand reaches out and grabs Daryl's, lacing their fingers together tightly.

Fuck that.

If their own family, who know and love them, are struggling to accept _whatever this is_ , then what will the desperate housewives of the Alexandria Safe Zone have to say on the matter?

Beth swallows, looking up and meeting Daryl's gaze. He looks agitated, his jaw and shoulders tight. He also looks curious, his eyes scanning her face as though trying to look for a cue as to how to respond. She just shrugs and then watches as his entire face slackens with relief.

Ever since they found their family Beth has felt the scrutiny of their gaze, well meaning and confused for the most part. Now finally they find themselves in a pocket of time that is just theirs. With everyone at the party there's nobody to watch them and make them feel uncomfortable; it can be just them like before.

Beth feels a grin break out across her face at that thought. She has Daryl all to herself, a room of their own and all the possibilities that creates makes her heart flutter.

She takes a step back, her hand pulling his where they're laced together and turns away from the party. Daryl's grip on her hand tightens and he follows, his eyes following the movement of her skirt and forgetting the streets of Alexandria entirely.

“Daryl. Beth.”

Their heads turn to find Aaron standing on the porch of a nearby house, watching them with a kind smile on his face.

“Hey,” Daryl answers for them both with a nod.

“Thought you'd be at that party over there,” Beth says, and they all turn their attention to the lit windows filled with people.

“Oh, I was never going to go ‘cause of Eric's ankle, thank God,” Aaron says, meeting Beth's eyes and sharing a look of relief that feels as though it's just for them.

She supposes Aaron and Eric have encountered more than their fair share of unwelcome stares.

“All right,” Beth says with a smile, taking another step away from the party and towards the bubble of her and Daryl she wants to wrap herself in.

“Hey. Come in.” Aaron interrupts eagerly. “Have some dinner.”

Beth stops. Her stomach pangs at the promise of food and she swings her gaze up to Daryl. He looks as unsure as she feels and she wonders if he feels the same pull she does for it to be just the two of them again.

 “Come on,” Aaron pleads with smile, “It's some pretty serious spaghetti.”

Beth looks back at Aaron. Something in his eyes tells her he's genuinely as good as he seems. Maybe one of the only genuine people behind these walls. Maybe one of the only good people left.

 _There are still good people left._ Isn't that what she said?

“We'd love to,” Beth answers, with a smile, “Thank you.”

Aaron's face brightens as Beth climbs the porch steps, pulling Daryl along with her.

* * *

 

Beth, Aaron and Eric exchange an affectionate smile as Daryl slurps down his spaghetti like a rampant toddler and then washes it down with half a glass of Merlot.

“Thanks,” he grunts, dragging a sleeve across his mouth as he clears his plate despite the others having barely touched theirs.

“Yes, thank you. This is amazin',” Beth smiles at Eric before taking a sip of her wine.

She feels the sweet alcohol warm her bones as she sets her glass back down. A smile works its way across her face as she misses the burn in her throat that the moonshine gave her the last and only other time she drank alcohol. It feels so strange to be sat here drinking, and for once not because of the world out there, not just. It feels strange because of the world _inside Beth Greene’s head._ There was never any wine around her dinner table growing up, on account of her daddy's problem. Just sitting here drinking wine feels decadent, almost _sinful._

“Mmm, when you're out there, if you happen to be in a store or something, Mrs. Neudermyer is really looking for a pasta maker,” Eric says in a giddy rush.

Beth and Daryl stare back at him blankly.

“And we're all really trying to get her to shut up about it. I mean, we have crates of dried pasta in here, but she wants to make her own or something, ” Eric explains, shaking his head with a laugh.

Beth continues to stare blankly as Daryl downs the rest of his wine, which Eric promptly refills as he speaks.

“I really think she just wants something to talk about, so if you see one out on your travels, it would go a long way to-“

Eric stops suddenly as his eyes meet Aaron's and finds the other man staring at him deliberately. Beth's brows knit together.

“You didn't ask them already?” Eric asks, exasperated and Aaron shakes his head gently, pressing his mouth into a line.

“Ask us what?” Daryl growls, taking another gulp of wine.

“I asked Deanna not to give you two jobs because I think I have one for you,” Aaron says, almost apologetically.

“Oh?” Beth asks, setting her fork down.

“I'd like you to be Alexandria’s other recruiters,” Aaron explains, then glances at Eric quickly before looking back at them. “I don't want Eric risking his life anymore.”

“You want us riskin’ ours, right?” Daryl asks, his voice low and rough, eyes narrowing into icy slits.

Beth feels his large hot palm land on her knee, his thick fingers curling around her thigh. His touch is both soothing and wakes her up at once.

“An' I was just beginning to like you.” She says, fixing Aaron with her own cool stare.

Aaron blinks back at them and nods. “Yeah, because you know what you're doing.”

“More than anyone,” Eric adds.

“You can tell the difference between walkers and humans by sound,” Aaron says to Daryl, eyes widening in awe.

Daryl shrugs, drinking deeply from his glass as Aaron swings his gaze to Beth.

“Can you tell the difference between a good guy and a bad guy? Rick doesn't seem to be an’ expert at that,” Aaron says carefully.

Beth meets his eyes with her calm blue gaze. She soaks up his words, his expression, the lilt of his voice, and waits for him to continue.

“There ain't much of a difference no more,” Daryl rasps, rubbing the pad of his thumb over Beth's knee cap and causing a shiver to run down her spine.

“You're good out there,” Aaron says to Daryl, “But you don't belong out there.”

He turns his attention back to Beth. “I know it's hard getting used to people getting used to you.”

“Believe me, we _know_ ,” Eric adds, giving her a sympathetic look.

“And I understand right now you need to be out there sometimes,” Aaron says, looking at Daryl again. “So do I.”

At some point, the calloused tips of Daryl's fingers started tracing circles along the soft skin of Beth’s inner thigh, making her feel hot and breathless. Daryl's face is suffused in red as he drains his glass again to avoid meeting Aaron's eyes. His touch is soft and exploratory, making her wonder if he's even aware what he's doing as his hand glides an inch further up her leg and her breath catches.

There's a stirring between her legs and a simmering heat crawling up her spine with each teasing movement of his hand. Her mind snaps back into focus when Aaron speaks again, catching her eyes and holding them with his soft imploring gaze.

“But the main reason why I want you to help me recruit is because you _do_ know the difference between a good person and a bad person.”

Beth swallows, pushing down the excited fluttering in her stomach and the apex of her thighs as Daryl's wide hand cups her thigh, spanning the width of her leg and blasting her skin with heat from his palm. The way that he's touching her now reminds her of the shower and the way that he explored her skin with tender reverence as though committing it to memory.

“We got nothing else to do,” She answers, her voice coming out so thick that Daryl's head snaps to face her and his hand stills.

Beth takes a drink of wine to clear her throat, feeling her face flush as they all watch her curiously. The rush of alcohol makes her head feel light and her muscles feel loose, like she's floating.  When she glances up at Daryl she inhales sharply when she sees the way that he's looking at her. His face is flushed, his pupils are blown wide and he's _staring_ at her like he's not sure if he wants to consume her or be consumed by her.

Eric and Aaron exchange a smile across the table.

“Sleep on it. Come see me tomorrow,” Aaron says, his eyes darting from Beth to Daryl with something like restrained fascination.

“Alright,” Daryl grunts, standing suddenly. “G'night,” He nods to Aaron and Eric before reaching out and grabbing Beth's hand.

Beth gasps, her stomach lurching with excitement as Daryl practically drags her out of the house and into the cool night air. With her dress swirling and her body thrumming with anticipation, they descend the porch steps and head back down the empty street towards the empty house that they might someday call home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed: Outsider Daryl skulking away from the party.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the rest of the family at the party, Beth and Daryl finally get some time to themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An early update for you guys because I have officially lost control of this fic! This chapter was a lot of fun to write, but also a little frustrating because I kept getting carried away. This slow burn is gonna burn me right up. Enjoy ;)
> 
> Thanks to LeighJ for fixing my fixes <3

They're between two houses when Daryl pulls Beth to him and crashes their mouths together. She moans, feeling Daryl's hands on her body, hot and questing as her back flattens against the side of one of the houses. She can taste the wine on his tongue as it pushes past her lips and his large hand comes up to cup the back of her neck, tangling in her hair. His other hand clutches the small of her back, crushing her to him as he presses her up against the wall, removing any space between their bodies.

The way he's pawing at her now is different than how he touched her in the shower; hungry, desperate, a little clumsy. She thinks it might have something do with the wine he knocked back at dinner, but she doesn't mind it . She doesn't mind it _at all_. She knows it's not just the alcohol driving this, that it's been simmering there between them all along. That their coming together was as inevitable as the rainfall.

And when it rains it pours.

It's as though all the hesitation has been stripped away and he's doing what he _wants_ without thinking, acting on instinct. As though all the tension that's been building in his body since those gates closed behind them has suddenly snapped and the caged animal has finally broken free.

His mouth is hot and insistent as it moves against hers and it's all she can do to moan into it and lean into him, every fibre of her being screaming _yes_ , this, _more_.  Her moan pulls a growl from the base of his throat and her head is spinning as her body is lifted off the ground and he kisses the life out of her.

When they part with a loud smack their breathing comes in ragged pants, dragging air from his lungs into hers and back again as they remain pressed together. She's seen this side of him before; when he fights walkers, beats them with his bare hands, this animal ferocity that's always raging just under the surface. She saw a flash of it come out back at the moonshine shack, pushing out through the pain and the alcohol.

It scared her then, just a little, but it doesn't scare her now. She thinks she'd like to get to know this side of Daryl; the wild part of him that takes, that _wants_ _._ She's starting to feel a little wild herself. Heart pounding against the back of her ribs, her breath comes out in shallow pants that stream across his mouth. She finds herself staring in fascination at his lips, fallen open and kissed raw, glistening with what she thinks is _her_ saliva.

His tongue runs across his bottom lip and rips a whine from her throat as her own want shakes her by the spine, her body suddenly flaring with heated need. In that moment she realises that she wants more of him than this, than his hot mouth and roaming hands in front of the trash cans and the twitching curtains of the Alexandria Safe Zone. She wants him naked, lain down on soft white bed linens so that she can do some exploring of her own.

Sucking in a deep breath she grips his shoulders to ground herself, to ground them, a little too tightly perhaps because she hears his laboured breath stutter.

“Come on,” she whispers, pushing away from the wall and pushing Daryl back with the momentum of her body.

His eyes find hers, clouding over with uncertainty yet still threatening to burn her from the inside out with something primal. He looks _wrecked_ ; mouth hanging open, face flushed and eyes so dilated they're almost black as they bore into hers. Beth feels her heart beat faster knowing that she's the one who did that to him, that it's all for her.

Her hand reaches out and grabs his, wiping the uncertainty from his gaze as she tugs him in the direction of the house. She deliberately doesn't look at him as she quickens her step and feels him do the same. The air between them is buzzing when they clamber up the porch steps, an excited grin twitching on Beth's kissed pink lips as Daryl yanks the front door open with enough force to tear it from its hinges.

Instinct causes them to halt as soon as they've stepped over the threshold. Beth's eyes start scanning their surroundings before she catches herself, and finds the house exactly as they left it.

A giggle bubbles up and tumbles out into the silence. Here they are scanning an empty room for walkers and across the street their family are making small talk about pasta makers with the good folks of Alexandria. She doesn't know which is more ridiculous. That they've forgotten how to _be_ normal or that they're acting like all of this still _is_ normal.

She glances over at Daryl as another giggle escapes and finds him watching her with so much warmth her face splits with a huge smile. He narrows his eyes as though he doesn't trust the grin she's wearing and he shouldn't because there's a beat and then she's running through the house and up the stairs.

He's hot on her heels, his boots uncharacteristically loud on the stairs as he gives chase. She's halfway across the bedroom when she feels his arm grab her around the waist, pulling her flush against his chest. She doesn't struggle, just leans her head back against his shoulder and laughs breathlessly.

“ _Gotcha_.”

Beth feels Daryl's hot breath tickle her ear and his chest vibrate against her back with each clipped syllable. She inhales deeply, her chest pushing out against the forearm caging her in as heat drips down her spine and settles in her pelvis.

Turning her head, she covers his lips with hers. He sighs, mouth opening and his whole body melting under her touch. She takes the opportunity to wriggle out of his grasp and step away from him. Arousal cracks through her like a whip as Daryl growls low in the back of his throat when she takes another step back, the corners of her mouth pulling up in a teasing smile.

Beth's heart is pounding in her chest as she crosses her arms in front of herself and grabs the hem of her skirt then pulls them up and over her head in one quick motion. The sundress slithers to the ground, echoing in the silence between them. 

Daryl's eyes grow huge in his flushed face and the wildness from between the houses is gone as he scrambles backwards. The back of his legs connect with the edge of the bed and he falls into a seated position with an uncharacteristic clumsiness.

Beth's fingers twitch at her sides as she watches him pushing back against the bed like he's trying to phase through it. His knuckles are white as he clutches the mattress like he's hanging onto the edge of a cliff. All the colour has drained from his face and there's a look in his eye that she never wanted to see let alone be the cause of. The heat coursing through her veins suddenly turns to ice.

He looks _scared._

She moves without thinking. Closing the distance between them in a heart beat, she climbs onto his lap. Daryl freezes, he's so still beneath her that she thinks his heart actually stops beating. Taking his face in her hands she rests their foreheads together so Daryl has no choice but to meet Beth's eyes. All of his breath leaves him in a rush, his hands coming up to grip her forearms, not to push them away but just for something to hold on to.

“It's ok,” she whispers against his mouth, and she's surprised at how gentle her voice sounds, “We don't have to do anything you don't want to do.”

“I don't want... I don't _know..._ ” He trails off.

She feels the words against the hollow of her throat as he buries his face there, feels his brow furrow against her neck.

“Then we won't do anything,” Beth says softly.

“What about what you want?” Daryl whispers, his head bowed as though pushed down by the fear of disappointing her. She can't stop herself from smiling. He could never disappoint her. Not ever.

“I already _have_ you,” she says, her lips curling against his temple.

“ _Beth..._ ”

Her name blows out of him like a gunshot. He looks up at her like she's his entire world before closing the distance between them and kissing her.The wild heat from between the houses is gone, but it's been replaced with a different kind of want, this one just as desperate. Daryl's hands slide up Beth's bare legs, drawing a moan from her as she turns her head and gives him unfettered access to her mouth.

She shivers as his fingers trail up her sides, cupping her back to draw her closer. He moans too when Beth slides a hand into his hair, dragging her fingertips across his scalp. With each soft moan he pulls from her body Beth feels his fear twist into excitement as his hands roam her body. He maps her skin in soft strokes and even though at times his touch is barely there each one sends a shiver rolling down her spine as if he was tracing his fingertips over her aching cunt.

She fists the ends of his hair as his mouth follows the line of her throat down to her jutting collar bones and keeps going, drawing a rasp from her throat as he takes her peaked nipple into his mouth. He moans then, almost a sob, as he gingerly circles his tongue over her hard nub. The hunger is gone now and he's touching her reverently as though she were a Goddess with the power to grant him salvation and her body a holy shrine.

Her head rolls back on her shoulders as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, her eyelids fluttering like they want to close but she forces them to stay open. She can't tear her eyes away as Daryl pulls back, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. He rests his forehead against her sternum and she feels his hot exhale against her chest as she brings her chin down to rest on top of his head.

His arms tighten then, holding her to him, tightly like he did in the car after he saved her from being taken, in that moment that bound them. She knows what he's saying in this moment as he said it then. _I won't ever leave you._ As their breaths fall into a rhythm she feels this moment binding them tighter still until she doesn't know where he ends and she begins.

Slowly, she lifts her head and then crawls off his lap, feels his sharp eyes follow her as she scoots up the bed and rests her head on the pillow.

His eyes lift to hers for moment, dark and flickering, before they drop like a stone. She watches as his cheeks and the tips of his ears turn pink but he doesn't shy away, he lets himself look. He lets his gaze trace her body lain atop the soft white linens, bare except for her panties. His face is swimming in admiration, perhaps a little lingering trepidation too but he looks happy _._ He looks _grateful._

Beth grins. “You gonna join me?”

And Daryl smiles, his eyes catching hers and lingering for a moment. Then he does look away, exhaling in a huff before he reaches down and starts unlacing his boots. Beth feels a small thrill in her chest that they're going to share a bed together; sliding her legs under the duvet and pulling it up to her shoulders as she feels him get up off the bed.

The mattress sinks as he crawls in behind her. Beth smiles wider still, nuzzling into the pillow with a sigh, and waits. There's a moment of stillness, and then Beth feels the mattress shift and the ghost of Daryl's breath against her neck. He snakes his arm around her waist and she shivers as his hot palm presses against the bare skin of her soft belly.

"Girl, I ain't gon’ get much sleep with you like this," he murmurs into her hair.

Beth laughs, closing her eyes as she presses back into the rumble of his chest. She feels the scratch of his shirt against her naked shoulders and the warm weight of his hard cock blasting through his jeans. Beth doesn't think she's ever felt safer, and it has nothing to do with the walls that surround them and everything to do with the strong arms that hold her as she falls asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after for Beth and Daryl, and they spend it exploring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me this far! I really appreciate your reviews as Beth and Daryl's relationship develops and I take on bigger fixes. 
> 
> Big squishy thanks to my girl LeighJ <3

It isn't anything new when Beth wakes up to Daryl at her back, curled around her protectively. They started sleeping like that on the road; for warmth, for safety, for comfort. What is new on this morning however is that Daryl's rough palm is cupping her naked breast, dwarfing her with his size.

At first Beth thinks that she's in a dream, lucidly enjoying the fantasy of having Daryl's skilled hands holding her bare flesh. When she watches him at work, sometimes she dares to imagine... what it might feel like, those hands touching her in places he can make her ache; ache like he's making her ache now in this fantasy. Then her brain slowly drifts awake and she remembers the events of the night before and she realises that it's actually happening.

A smile nudges her mouth as she feels his chest rumble against her back. His heavy arm is holding her to him so tightly that she couldn't move if she wanted to. But she doesn't. She doesn't want to move; she thinks that she could quite happily spend the rest of her life wrapped in Daryl's embrace.

His now-familiar scent fills her lungs with each inhale and his hot breath streams across her cheek. He's sleeping more deeply than she's ever known him to. Maybe because of the wine, maybe because of the walls, or maybe, her heart squeezes at the very thought, because of _her._

Her stuttering heart causes Daryl to stir, his arms constricting around her as though they might stop the grim reaper himself from taking her from him. He nuzzles into her neck, taking a greedy lungful of air that she thinks must smell of her, of them. The nuzzling turns to open mouthed kisses clumsily pressed into the soft spot under her jaw.

In the space between waking and sleeping, Daryl is less shy and more bold as his rough hands stroke their way down the soft skin of her stomach to her hips. His movements start off sleepy but become more sure and by the time his hot palms are moving down her thighs Beth's breath is coming out in ragged pants that fill the room.

Each swirl of his tongue on her skin makes her spine tremble all the way down to her begging clit. When Daryl sucks the tender flesh over her pulse point Beth lets out a rough moan and her hips rock forward of their own volition.

There's a split second where she feels Daryl still and then his hands tighten on her hips and he drags them backwards to meet his own. He doesn't grind into her ass but Beth feels the hot hard length of his cock through worn denim.

As he pulls her ass flush against him she feels his cock twitch and a strained moan bursts from her lips. The muscles of her thighs clench in a desperate quest for friction, but her pussy lips just glide in the wetness pooling between them. The sound seems to encourage him and his thick fingers slide down her inner thighs towards her centre as if drawn closer by the orbit of her arousal.

He doesn't even reach her panties before his finger tips find the wetness that's dripping down her inner thighs. He drags in a ragged breath as he smears his fingers through her slick and then exhales in a low grunt as his calloused fingertips find the damp cotton of her panties.

Beth catches her bottom lip between her teeth and she tries to get a hold of her own breathing. A violent pulse shoots from her clit across her pelvis at his touch and Beth can't help the desperate moan that pours from her throat. She doesn't want to, she wants him to know the effect he has on her body.

His rough digits circle her clit through her soaked panties and another pulse sparks across her pussy. Beth feels his stubble scratch its way across her cheek as though he’s trying to look as he trails his index finger down the line of her dripping slit. When the ball of his hand reaches her clit and kneads with deliberate pressure Beth comes so fast it shocks them both. Her mouth falls open in a silent scream as she presses her pulsing sex into his palm.

“Jesus, girl,” he whispers against her cheek in awe, his hand cupping her pussy like it's something worth holding onto.

Beth lets out a shaky breath as she feels the aftershocks run hot and cold down her legs to the balls of her feet.

“I...God, I never came that fast before,” she pants, feeling her face flush with a mixture of heat and embarrassment.

Daryl pulls around then so that he can see her face, not -she notices- moving his hand from her pussy which is still singing beneath his palm. His eyes look a little wider than usual as they track her face, taking in the flush of her cheeks and her eyelids fallen to half mast. He looks like he can't believe what he's seeing.

“That was amazin,” Beth breathes, letting her head tip back against the pillow they're sharing.

Daryl does move his hand then, bringing it up to gently smooth her wild bed hair away from her face. He’s staring at her like there’s nothing else on earth. He's smiling like he's forgotten how not to, like it's becoming as familiar to his face as the scowl he used to wear. Beth thinks it suits him better.

As Daryl leans down to kiss her Beth feels his cock poke into her back, still hard in the confines of his jeans.

She looks back at him guiltily, twisting onto her back and reaching between them but Daryl catches her hand in his.

“Nah, girl,” he says, voice low and gravelly, still drowning in awe, “you given me enough.”

His hand moves down to cup her face as he seals his mouth over hers.

* * *

 

Eventually the growl of their stomachs forces them out of the bubble of their bed and Beth into some clothes. Daryl is still wearing his dark shirt and jeans from last night with spaghetti sauce on the sleeve. He can't take his eyes off of her. Everything about him seems lighter as they exit the bedroom and he laces his fingers with hers.

When they reach the kitchen, Daryl places a hand on the small of her back and guides her to the breakfast bar. Beth gives him a questioning look and then he grabs her by the hips and hoists her up onto a stool.

“What are you doin'?” She squeaks, catching his shoulders under her palms.

Daryl looks up at her through his hair and there's the hint of a smirk when her cheeks flush under his heated gaze.

“I'm makin’ you breakfast.”

Beth's grinning so hard her face starts to hurt as she watches Daryl rifle through the cupboards. His broad shoulders almost span the width of the stove, hiding what he's doing from view. Beth hardly notices, letting her eyes drift down his tightly muscled back to his narrow waist and then falling like a stone to the hard curve of his ass.

She lets herself stare, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips, another kind of hunger threatening to set her ablaze. The soft tread of feet draws their attention to Maggie entering the kitchen. Daryl slows but doesn't stop what he's doing.

“Hey. You want some eggs?” He mutters.

Beth doesn't know whose eyes are wider, hers or Maggie's, as they fall on Daryl.

There's a pause and then out of Maggie's surprise rises a smile. “I'd love some,” She says, “Thank you.”

Daryl jerks a nod, glances at Beth and then turns back to the stove.

Moving forward, Maggie smiles and slides onto the stool next to Beth. “How on God's green earth have you got _Daryl Dixon_ makin' eggs?” Maggie whispers, looking between them, “or don't I want to know?”

Beth flushes but catches something affectionate in Maggie’s face that makes her roll her eyes.

“I better not get food poisoning for you, Bethy.”

Beth's lips twitch and she leans forward, shaking her head. Daryl appears then, balancing three plates on his massive arms and handing the largest portion to Beth before sitting down next to her.

“You tryin' to fatten me up?” Beth asks, eying up her plate with a grin.

Daryl snorts, but he's smiling too. “You're damn right I am.”

Maggie is still staring but if it bothers Daryl he doesn't let on; just pulls the plate into his lap and starts shovelling food into his mouth as quickly as possible.

As she stuffs a giant forkful into her mouth, Beth groans, making Daryl's head snap up.

“This is _so good,_ Daryl, thank you,” she says, stuffing an even bigger forkful into her mouth with another groan that makes Daryl jerk.

“S'just powdered eggs,” he mutters, the tips of his ears turning pink as he buries his face in his own eggs.

When Beth glances up Maggie has stopped staring and is cautiously taking a bite. She glances up at Beth and before Beth can look away their eyes catch. Hold.

“Yes, this is good, Daryl, really good,” Maggie says, still holding her sister's gaze.

The side of Beth's mouth slides up. She isn't sure but she suspects it isn't the eggs that have impressed Maggie this morning.

* * *

 

Aaron is made up when they agree to be his new recruiting partners and swiftly takes them into the garage to show them a dissected motorcycle.  Beth can feel the relief coming off Aaron in waves and she thinks about Eric. Wonders how she'd feel if Daryl wanted her to stay inside the walls while he went beyond them.

The thought of them being apart for indeterminate amounts of time, of the very real prospect of Daryl never returning from a trip, makes her stomach twist. Her hand reaches out and grabs Daryl's, a little too tightly by the way his eyes snap up from the array of motorcycle parts in front of him.

A breath passes her lips when they make contact, as if it is only with the feel of him under her that she is able to resume breathing. She feels the knot in the stomach loosen as Daryl gives her hand a squeeze before swinging his gaze back to the half built bike. As she watches Daryl's darting eyes mentally bring Frankenstein’s motorcycle to life she thinks that perhaps Eric is the strong one after all.

When Aaron asks if they want to join him going outside the walls to hunt rabbits, Daryl is halfway down the drive before Aaron has finished speaking. He's almost bouncing on the balls of his feet as they approach the gate. Once they are fully outside and surrounded by trees he seems taller somehow.

When a walker stumbles into their path he actually looks _pleased_ and Beth can't help the way her mouth curves up at the palpable enjoyment he derives from killing it. Aaron was right; he needs to be out here sometimes.

As they reach a break in the tree line Beth hears a sound that stops her in her tracks so fast Aaron collides with her back. She barely notices as she hears the sound again and her head swings around to fall on the body that made it.

“I've been trying to catch him for months, bring him inside,” Aaron says, following her gaze. “His name's Buttons.”

Grazing just a dozen yards in front of her is beautiful jet black horse, his coat the deepest ebony Beth has ever seen. She had almost forgotten the easy grace with which horses move as her mesmerised eyes follow Buttons as he finds a new patch of grass.

“One of the kids saw him run by the gate a while back. Thought he looked like a Buttons,” Aaron fills in, “I haven't seen him for a while. I thought it was too late.”

Beth finds herself moving forward without conscious thought.  Something deep inside her aches, at the beauty of this creature in a world so ugly, and of the memories he brings from a past she can't ever go back to.

“Every time Eric or I get close he gets spooked,” Aaron says from behind her as she comes up beside Buttons, if she were to reach out she could almost touch him from the distance.

“Have you done this before?” She hears Aaron ask Daryl.

“Our group did,” Daryl answers, “But they weren't out there that long.” Beth hears him come to stand behind her. “The longer they're out there, the more they become what they really are.”

Buttons straightens up and looks at Beth, pauses for a moment before continuing to chew on his mouthful of grass.

“That's it, just keep eating,” Daryl says softly, moving forward so that he's pressed against Beth's back. She feels his heartbeat pound steadily out of his chest and into hers.

 “Yeah, you used to be somebody's, huh?” Beth says to Buttons, holding her hand out slowly for his inspection. The horse gives her a curious sniff, tickling his muzzle across her palm. “Now you're just yours,” Beth smiles, stroking the horses snout gently.  

The sound of a twig snapping draws all of their eyes to the tree line. Beth hears the snarling of the walker before she sees it emerge from undergrowth.

Buttons lets out a high whinny and then paces backwards.

“Shit,” Daryl grunts, shouldering his bow and turning as more walkers emerge.

Beth turns back as Buttons neighs and darts in the opposite direction, gaining speed as he races into the distance, tail swishing behind him.

“Come on, they're coming,”

Daryl's voice drags her attention back to her surroundings and she unsheathes her knife.

* * *

 

“You are _not_ skinning those on the porch, you already made enough mess with that damn possum,” Carol glares from the doorway, spotting the string of rabbits hanging from Daryl's shoulder.

Beth and Daryl stop walking in front of the house where Carol is stood with her hands on her hips.

 “We need to keep up appearances, even you,” she narrows her eyes at Daryl.

He scoffs. “Hey, I ain't startin' now.”

Beth's eyes bounce for a moment between Carol's sharp gaze and Daryl's chin raised in defiance. She's reminded of Maggie and her mom, of teenage daring and motherly love, and the memory makes her feel happy and sad all at once.

“I'll bring them inside,” Beth says, reaching up and grabbing the string of rabbits. Her words are directed at Carol but her eyes are fixed on Daryl.

He snorts, shrugs and digs in his pocket for a smoke. When Beth turns to Carol she finds her looking somewhere between relieved and curious. As she climbs the porch steps, Daryl sits himself down on them, lighting his cigarette and glaring out at the white picket fences.

* * *

“So, you and Daryl,” Carol says suddenly once they reach the kitchen.

Beth stares back at her, her mouth falling open but no words coming out. Carol takes the string of rabbits out of her hand and puts them down on the kitchen counter, quickly untying them from the rope.

“You're young,” Carol states simply, levelling her gaze on Beth. She feels her breath catch in her chest.

“But so is he.”

Beth tilts her head, brows knitting in confusion. That wasn't what she was expecting.

“Inside, Daryl's still just a boy,”  Carol says with a sigh as she turns to lean on the counter.

“Your parents loved you and they raised you right. All Daryl has ever known is pain, and that stunts a person. Keeps them down, makes them believe they don't deserve any different.”

Something in the tightness of Carol's voice tells Beth she knows exactly what she's talking about.

“You be careful with him now,” Carol says, locking her eyes with Beth's, “If anyone's going to get hurt here it's Daryl, and if you hurt him I will come for you.”

Beth swallows nervously. Her stomach rolls over at Carol's cut throat words. There is doubt in her mind that Carol will follow up on them. She's not the same woman that Beth met on the farm; but neither is Beth. 

“But I'm not worried,” Carol says, cheerfully turning back to the rabbits on the counter.  “You're a good person. You could really help him, if he lets you. You already are, I've never seen him smile like that. Or you.”

She turns to Beth then, and her soft eyes turn thoughtful.

“I bet he's a _beast_ in the sack.”

Carol is looking at her with a smirk and she feels herself flush crimson from her hairline to the back of her neck.

“Are you being careful? A big hunk of a man like Daryl probably only needs to hold your hand to get you pregnant.”

Beth starts to hyperventilate.

“Here. Take these,” Carol says, opening a drawer and taking out an honest to God packet of condoms before pushing them into Beth's hand. “They only work if you use them,”  Carol says with a sly wink.

“Uh, thanks,” Beth says, shoving the packet into her back pocket. She blushes again and is about to look away when Carol smiles.

As a breathless laugh forces its way past Beth's lips she feels something relax between them, reaching out and grabbing a rabbit from the pile.

They make quick work of the rabbits, using the skills they honed out of necessity on the road. When Carol turns on the tap to wash the blood away down the sink, Beth watches mesmerised by the running water swirling away. Just a few days ago they barely had enough clean water to drink and here they are pouring it down the drain like it's nothing. Where does it go? She wonders. Would any of these people even have the first idea how to find clean water out there? Will they, in turn, forget how to survive, if they don't have to fight to live?

When she looks up Carol is drying her hands on a tea towel. She meets Beth's eyes -warm, but with a question.

“This place is going to make us weak,” Beth says, wiping the blade of her knife on her jeans so as not to waste any more water and slipping it back in its sheath.

Carol sighs, her mouth pressing into a thin line.

A twitchy looking kid passes Beth on the porch and she holds Carol's door open for him as he mumbles something about a cookie maker. Her eyes find Daryl stooped on the porch, his back and his crossbow lent against the railing. When she looks down at Daryl and he looks up she's rocked by the spark she feels in her chest. It's clear that what this place takes from them with one hand it gives with the other, and her entire body thrums with the possibilities of what she might find here.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidden behind the clean clothes and social graces, the people of Alexandria are concealing a secret that is just as violent and dangerous as the world beyond their walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it has been two whole months since I last updated. I'm so desperately grateful to everyone for sticking with me. 
> 
> I hope it's worth the wait <3
> 
> Thank you to LeighJ for the encouragement and the wicked fast beta'ing job.

“You a cop again?”

Beth can hear the scowl in Daryl’s voice as her eyes take in the unfamiliar clothing that Rick’s wearing. The way Daryl spits out the word cop, thrown harshly from his mouth like an insult, makes Beth think of an entirely different, much dirtier, word. As her eyes scan the black and blue uniform up to his clean shaven face she feels her brow crease.  

He doesn’t look like Rick. More accurately, he looks like Mr. Grimes – the gentle man she first met on her Daddy’s farm compared to the Rick he became out on the road, the hardened savage who shed blood to keep their family alive. This place is already sloughing off their rough edges, the parts that aren’t pretty to look at but keep them safe.

Rick sighs, heavy and tired, his exhaustion not sated from a night in a warm bed as though it were laced into the marrow of his bones.

“I'm trying it on for size.”

Daryl ducks his chin; a gesture that could easily be taken as affirmation. It's not. As he looks away, his jaw tightens and there’s no way that Rick doesn’t notice his discomfort, but he simply mirrors the gesture.

“You settlin’ in alright?” Rick asks, swinging his gaze to Beth. “I didn’t see you two at the welcome party last night.”

Beth sucks in a breath, not having expected the attention to fall on her. Maybe it’s because of the uniform but Beth suddenly feels her face growing hot under Rick’s attention as her brain floods with memories of last night.

Wine. Daryl’s questing hands. Her tight nipple entering the wet heat of his mouth. Her body tingles, remembering the sweet sensations seared into her skin, so vivid they steal the air from her lungs.

Tilting his head back, Rick’s eyes narrow as they scan her flushed face, before sliding to Daryl’s purposefully averted gaze. The silence stretches between them for a moment too long.

Rick’s mouth falls open, a question forming on his lips, when Carol appears, diverting his attention. Relief washes over Beth’s hot cheeks for just a moment until she sees Carol. She’s wringing her hands as she casts her eyes around the house and then behind her to the empty street, as though wary of being followed.

Tension cracks through the porch like lightening. Daryl’s head snaps up, eyes immediately scanning their surroundings for the threat, and finding none, brings a hand up to clutch his bow strap. When Carol turns back to them and settles her gaze on Rick her mouth is a tight line.

“Pete’s hitting Jessie.”

The words drop like a stone from a great height, and as they sink in the silence grows colder.

“Maybe Sam, too.”

Beth feels Daryl's entire body clench. She keeps her eyes on Carol’s anguished face even as she can feel Daryl’s body winding tight enough to snap, bicep pulsing against hers as his hands frantically clench and unclench at his sides.

“You know this how?” Rick asks, tone brusque to match his uniform, “Sam tell you?”

Carol holds his gaze, hers shimmering. “He didn't have to,” she says quietly.

Beth feels her stomach knot as they unanimously fill their lungs with dread and let out a combined sigh, resigned to the inevitable horror of what they know is coming next. Carol’s eyes are watery with unshed tears, but her voice is made of steel when she speaks.

“He said his mom put a bolt on the inside of his closet. Tells him to lock himself in sometimes and not come out till morning. He said he can hear his dad yelling, things breaking, his mom crying. Last month it got quiet right in the middle of it and he went out and found her on the floor unconscious, bleeding. Pete was just sitting on the porch.”

Beth can't concentrate on anything further than the sound of Daryl's faltering breaths. The way they shake almost as though he is in pain. She can feel the tension in his arm behind her back, strung tight like a bow from his white knuckle grip on the railing. When she dares to glance up at his face, his jaw is churning painfully tight.

She fights a wince when she hears the grind of his teeth. Anger is coming off him in waves, dark and thick, billowing from his flared nostrils with every laboured exhale. She can’t remember ever seeing him so furious before, like he could kill a man as soon as look at him, with his bare hands.

Just like when he beat his anger into a walker back at the golf club. His barely caged rage frightened her then, but it doesn’t frighten her now. There is nothing for her to fear in him. Yet there's something under the anger that does frighten her; something in his darting eyes that looks a lot like fear.

Raw fear, peeled back and rattling around just under the goose bumps on his scar covered skin. The thought that even a small part of Daryl might be scared chills her to the bone, causing her to wrap her arms around her chest as a shiver runs through her. What could possibly scare Daryl in this place? He's uncomfortable here, that's clear, and this situation with Jessie and her husband is more uncomfortable still, but it's not _scary._

Not after everything they've been through. Daryl could kill Pete as easily as look at him. So why is he trembling? She can feel him vibrating out of his skin from where he's pressed against her, overtight like he can't bear not to be touching her.

She presses back, for what it's worth, feeling the pain in each grating breath. _Pain._ She doesn't understand it, but she recognises it. Here beside him she can feel the rumble of his chest as his anguish swirls violently within.

His fingers wrap around her wrist, pressing hard into her pulse point as though anchoring himself to the beat of her heart. Even as his fingers constrict in a bruising grip she only feels his pain screaming against her skin, suffocating her and sending a tremble through her breath.

Through her entire being as she feels the only constant in her world shift, as though the ground beneath her feet has suddenly become unsteady. Dragging in a breath she looks to Rick, just as Carol is and just as their family always has and always will. His eyes are hard, burning with a cool anger as he rolls his jaw.

Beth watches as his gaze drifts down the street and his hand drifts to a pistol badly concealed in his jacket. _Huh._ She feels her stomach roll over once more. The more time she’s spent with Daryl, the more observant she’s become. She notices things she wouldn’t have before. She’s started to mirror Daryl’s darting eyes, his ability to stand back and observe, to question, to listen to her gut.

She’s noticed the gun. _Deanna said no guns._ If the pistol is part of his uniform, why is he hiding it? _Because it isn’t part of his uniform._ Something is going on here that doesn’t feel right. That Rick has a weapon he feels the need to hide, and that he’s reaching for it now. The murderous look in Rick’s eye is all she needs to tell her this isn’t leading anywhere good.

 “You’re a cop. What would you have done before, in situations like this?”

Each set of eyes widen in surprise and swing to Beth. Everyone seems shocked that she is the one to speak, breaking the tense, spiralling silence like a window. Daryl’s white-knuckle grip loosens on her wrist, body jerking at her voice as though she’s just woken him up.

She clears her throat before blinking up at Rick, “Handle it like that. Don't make it personal.”

Rick’s eyes narrow for a split second before he levels her with his icy blue gaze.

“An' why would I do that?” He drawls, voice low and rough and laced with an unspoken warning.

Beth doesn’t hesitate, she doesn’t even blink. “Because Maggie told me how you were lookin’ at her, like you wanna save her.”

This time, all eyes descend on Rick and follow as his head tilts to the side and his mouth falls open to release an anguished sigh. 

“Maybe she needs _savin’._ ” He says, with a pitch of desperation.

It’s Beth’s turn to sigh and she closes her eyes for a moment to keep from rolling them into the back of her head.

“She doesn't need you to be her knight in shining armour, Rick,” she tells him, keeping her voice and her face neutral.

Rick snaps, leaning forward, eyes flashing with all the ferocity seething just below the surface, “and how the hell would you know what she needs?”

In a split second, Daryl straightens up off the railing, squaring up to Rick with his broad shoulders. He lets out a warning growl, so low that it's barely audible but Beth feels it run down her spine. She doesn't need Daryl to fight her battles for her. She chose to make this point and she’s more than capable of standing up for what she thinks is right.  

But her heart squeezes too tight knowing that he'd go to bat for her against his best friend. Rick's eyes flick up to Daryl's and widen a little at what he finds there. He stills; the ferocity in his eyes dying down to a simmer as he stares at Daryl with his sky-blue gaze pulsing wildly. 

“I do,” Carol interrupts quietly. She takes a step forward and they have no choice but to look at her and give her their full attention. Beth feels Daryl’s impossibly wide hand wrap around her waist, rough fingertips catching the soft fabric of her vest.

“I know how this is gonna go with Pete,” Carol states flatly, voice heavy with resignation, “There's only one way it can go.”

The finger tips curled around Beth’s waist close into a fist, pulling worn cotton tight across her clenched stomach. For a moment all she hears is the blood thrashing in her ears as she looks into Carol’s desperate eyes, screaming with past pain. Daryl’s usually solid presence behind her is racked by tremors that she feels in her heart. Her mind is white noise, the thrashing of her pulse in her ears making her dizzy, until Carol’s voice cuts through the noise.

“We're gonna have to kill him.”

As all the breath drains from her lungs she feels a great deal of hope go with it. Beth steps back until she feels the heat of Daryl’s chest against her shoulder blades, surrounding herself in the haphazard pounding of his heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed: Rick can't-keep-it-in-his-pants-and-quite-clearly-unhinged Grimes being left to deal with the Jessie and Pete clusterfuck alone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl's blood is up after the news about Jessie and his way of coping might be a little more than Beth can handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer to finish than it should have due to life getting in the way again. Apologies, and thank you for your patience! On the plus side, the next instalment is already well on the way so you shouldn't have to wait as long for the next update. I have the rest of the story planned out now and I really think you're going to enjoy the final fix! Updates should speed up as we get closer to the end. 
> 
> Oh, and this chapter makes this my longest fic to date! :)
> 
> I really can't thank LeighJ enough for all the little nudges she gave me to make this chapter the best that it could be <3 <3 <3

The moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind them, Daryl’s hands are fevered, tangling in her hair and clutching at her clothes. Thick fingers slip around her throat to angle her head up and then he’s desperately crushing their mouths together. Kissing Daryl is still so new to Beth that her entire body flutters when their lips meet.  She’s pushed up onto her tip toes as he surges forward, stealing the breath from her lungs with the ferocity of his frantic mouth claiming hers.   

He's never touched her like this before. Not even when the wine loosened him enough to push her up against one of those picture perfect houses. That was playful, thrumming with uncontrollable excitement to be together in every way possible. But this is different. This is a fevered tenacity rattling just beneath his skin, desperately trying to claw its way under hers. It quickly becomes clear that the roughness isn’t just for play as his teeth catch her bottom lip and leave it throbbing. This change in him unnerves her, yet at the same time she can’t deny the heat it sparks between her legs.

Daryl's hands slide down her body and grab her ass roughly, pulling her up against his chest. He suddenly stills when something presses against the palm of his hand. Reaching into her back pocket, he pulls out the box of condoms and brings it up close enough to frown at. Beth's cheeks glow hot as his face grows slack with shock, frown loosening like a calming sea.

“Where’d you get these?” He asks in a hoarse whisper as he stares intently at the packet between his fingers. His voice is so low and thick it makes the hairs on the back of Beth’s neck stand on end.

 “Carol,” She croaks, swallows. Her throat is suddenly dryer than the desert, “Why?”

He slides his gaze up to her, blue and hot, “You wanna use ‘em?”

Beth’s stomach somersaults, but before she can say anything he’s tossing her backwards onto the bed, driving the air from her lungs and the half formed reply from her lips. He’s like an animal as he crawls on all fours to loom over her, running his tongue across his bottom lip hungrily, panting and looking at her with so much need raging inside his body seems to barely contain it.

Beth’s feels an ache in her chest and between her thighs with a burning desire to meet his need with her own. The thought that she can give him anything, anything at all, makes her head spin as lust fills her blood.

The usual reverence in his touch is gone, replaced with something desperate, frenzied and _unknown_. His hands feel strange and unfamiliar as they grab her hips and squeeze tight enough to ache. When the grip on her hips becomes bruising it clears Beth’s head, allowing her thoughts to push past her primal needs.

_Not like this. Not like this. Not like this._

When Daryl’s hand grabs her belt buckle, Beth gasps and pushes her palm against his chest. “Can we slow down?” She asks breathlessly.

Her blood is screaming because she wants this, _badly_ and has done for a while. She just doesn't want it _like this._ Daryl can't hear her as his fevered hands aggressively seek the comfort of her body. His fingers fumble along the waistband of her jeans and pop the button roughly, seeking her skin like a drowning man gasping for breath.

Her own breath catches in her chest, head swimming as her heart sinks. “Please Daryl,” She pleads, fingertips curling against his chest, “I haven't done this before."

He freezes, muscles going rigid and locking into place in an instant. His head snaps up, pinning her with his piercing blue eyes, lust blown pupils rapidly shrinking as they meet hers.

“What?” He asks on a grated breath, chest stuttering as though he's suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

Her cheeks flash hot as Daryl's eyes search her face, narrowing in confusion at her rapidly reddening face.

“It just never...” Beth pauses to swallow awkwardly, eyes dropping to Daryl's lips and watching his tongue wet them, unable to meet his gaze for fear her face will catch fire. “... seemed the right time,” She finishes flatly.

“The right time...you mean you're a...” He trails off, brows softening and pupils yawning as realisation finally dawns .  
  
“Yeah,” Beth sighs.

_Shit._

There’s a moment that feels as though it stretches for an eternity as Beth fills her lungs slowly, jaw tightening anxiously under burning cheeks. As she exhales, Daryl's hand comes to cup her jaw and tilt her face up so that her eyes have no choice but to meet his. As they bore into hers, his heated gaze is drowning in guilt and confusion.

His rough thumb gently traces the line of her cheekbone and she closes her eyes, leaning in to the familiar feel of it.  Home isn't a place anymore, home is this: the feel of Daryl knowingly tracing the contours of her face with a touch that's gentle and sure.

 “ _Fuck_ , m’ sorry, I wasn' thinkin’-" He murmurs, words tumbling from his lips like shards from a broken window. She raises her hand to stop the flow with her fingertips.

“I didn't say stop,” She says, the corner of her mouth sliding up as she tilts her head to hold his gaze, “Jus’ slow down.”

His eyes flicker, straining to hold hers as they sway with uncertainty. Something behind them looks broken, _haunted,_ but he's leaning in to her as though the closer he gets the less it hurts.

When no more words come, he buries his face in her throat, taking deep lungfuls of her scent as he nuzzles into her skin. As if to say he's _sorry_ with every fibre of his being. He has nothing to be sorry for and Beth's heart aches to see him like this. A tremble runs through him as he nuzzles deeper, desperately trying to soothe the beast that's  threatening to eat him from the inside out. She doesn't understand what's going on inside him, or where it came from, but whatever it is she knows better than to push.

Knows that's the exact opposite of what Daryl needs from her right now. It's not so much that he's not good at sharing his feelings, it's that he isn't good at acknowledging them _at all._ She wishes she could reach inside and pull the demons out of him, but she can't. Like a splinter the darkness can't be forced out. If she tries she'll only end up driving it deeper in to fester and cause even more damage. No, she has to hold back and let whatever’s hurting him make its own way out into the light. Only then will she have a chance at helping him, if he'll let her. God, she really, _really_ hopes he'll let her.

Biting back a pained sigh, her hand comes up to thread into his hair and she’s sure she doesn't imagine the whine he makes when the pads of her fingers press against his scalp.

“Maybe it never felt like the right time ‘cause I never found the right person,” She thinks out loud as her fingers rake across his scalp, causing him to shudder, “Until now.”

Only when she says the words does she truly feel the weight of them. _The right person._ Her soul has come to know his when she wasn't looking and nothing in her life has ever felt so right. He lets out a shaky breath against her throat, a hot stream that sends sparks tingling down her spine.

She arches her back, pressing her chest against his where they lie side by side and earning another burst of hot breath across her neck. His palm curls around her waist, pulling her even closer, searing her skin and extinguishing the space between them entirely.

When their hips collide, the hardness of his straining cock presses into the apex of her thighs and a soft moan bursts from her lips, equal parts surprise and aching need. Daryl’s fingers flex against her skin and he muffles a groan against her shoulder.

He leans his head back just enough so their eyes catch. “We don’t gotta do anythin’,” He rumbles, holding her gaze tightly for a moment before he lets his face sink back down to her throat.

“Jus’ wanna be close to ya is all,” He whispers into her pulse point, lips close enough to feel her heartbeat quicken.

She doesn't know what to say to that. How to explain how much she wants the _same damn thing_. And more. How to explain that she wants to crawl inside his chest but thinks it still wouldn't be close enough. How she wants to entwine her body and soul with his until there is no him and her, there's just an inescapable _us_. She doesn't know how to say that. So she doesn't say anything at all. Her tiny hands slide out of his hair to cup his face as she leans forward and covers his mouth with hers. His lips part beneath hers in a moan and she licks her tongue against his, thighs clenching as the taste of him lights up her mouth.

There’s still something a little off about him; his breathing is off rhythm and there’s a tremble that keeps making its way down his spine. But she recognises the hands that are touching her now. They belong to her Daryl, the one who saved her life. She knows those hands from the rough palms that smoothed her hair from her forehead in the back of a car at the funeral home, to the skilled fingers that bound her ankle at the gas station and the hot fingertips that circled her clit just this morning.

Her skin is on fire as her aching pussy pulses at the vivid memory and his thick fingers dip below the hem of her vest to stroke the sensitive flesh of her belly. Their blood is up from all the tension of this evening, crashing together like waves. Every touch fills her with electricity, charging her arousal until she’s fit to burst and a desperate moan escapes her mouth and vibrates against his.

He drags in a breath, pressing his forehead against hers as he watches her through heavy lids, his unfocused gaze flickering dark and hot.

“Will you touch me?” Beth whispers on a gasp, “Like you did this mornin’.”

Daryl’s eyes pulse back at her and she feels his chest vibrate with a growl so low she can barely hear it, but she _feels it_ dance across her pelvis like flames.

“Yeah,” He answers in a hoarse whisper, leaning back just enough to let her bring her hands between them to undo her belt.

His tongue runs across his bottom lip and he doesn’t blink as he watches her kick off her boots and wriggle out of her jeans. Emboldened by the heat between them, she slides her panties down with the denim and kicks the whole lot off the bed.

Daryl’s huge palm wastes no time in landing on her bare skin, following the line of hard muscle slowly until he finds the softer flesh of her inner thigh. Her legs part as if of their own accord and when she feels her cheeks flush she isn’t entirely sure if it’s with lust or embarrassment.

Beth moans softly as Daryl's questing fingers nuzzle their way through her wet curls towards her centre. His rough fingertips glide through her damp heat as he ever so slowly traces the line of her slit until her thighs are trembling hard with need. Her face and chest flush deeply, skin burning red as though calling out for his touch. With a gasp, her needy hips rock forwards and swallow the tip of his finger between her lips, pulling a shared moan from them both. He gently strokes his trembling fingertip back and forth, moving easily through the wetness covering the soft, supple flesh of her labia; each feather-light motion earning another uncontrollable shudder from her hips.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” He murmurs against her temple before pressing a kiss to her hot skin.

“You won’t,” She says, turning her face to cover his mouth with hers. As she licks her tongue into his mouth he presses his finger in deeper. He moans as her fluttering walls tighten around his digit.

“ _Fuck_ ,” He breathes against her mouth, “Hold on.”

Beth blinks and feels her eyes flare as she watches him slide down the bed, pushing her legs further apart with his spare hand on her knee and positions himself between them.

“What are you… _oh!_ ”

She gasps as he covers the hood of her clit with his mouth and _sucks_. Beth’s eyes fall closed as the wet heat of his mouth burns pleasure through her core like nothing she’s ever felt before. He sucks again, harder and she lets out a high moan as white hot pleasure shakes through her. She’s never felt anything like it, the perfect pressure surrounding her clit, making her spine tingle. Then he swirls his finger inside her at the same time and the pleasure is so intense she isn’t sure if she can take it.

Her eyes fly open, her head snaps up and her hands come up to fist in his hair desperately. The eyes that are staring back at her are dark pools of lust that ripple as he swirls his hot tongue over her clit. In the same moment his finger echoes the motion inside her fluttering walls and her clutching fists tighten in his hair. His moan is muffled by her trembling cunt and the vibrations kick another desperate moan from her throat. She feels everything inside her pull tighter and tighter as Daryl’s mouth takes her apart. Her clit is pulsing under the hot attention of his relentless tongue and his finger is softly stroking her quivering walls until she almost can’t bare it.

And then a movement catches her eye she sees something that sends her over the edge. Daryl’s fly hanging open, cock red and angry caught in his desperate grip. Her heart stops when his hand twists in time with his tongue around his bulging cock and she comes gasping his name.

For a moment all she can do is shudder against his mouth. Her orgasm cracks through her with all of the ferocity of the sea, waking up every nerve ending in her body. Then she’s scooting her hips back, her firm grip on his hair preventing him from following.

He stares back at her, lust drunk as his tongue falls out to slide across his bottom lip, his whole mouth, chin, cheeks and nose smeared and  glistening with her juices.

“Can I?” She asks, her voice coming out breathy, still shaking from the force of her orgasm as she leans forward. With a slight tremble, her hand comes to rest across his where it’s frozen mid-stroke around his dick. 

Daryl huffs, wild eyes darting to where her hand covers his before flying back up to catch hers. His knuckles are trembling beneath her palm until the moment their eyes lock and he stills before giving a small nod. Beth bites her lip as he pulls his steady hand from his cock and brings it to rest on her bent knee.

Her shy fingers wrap around him and drift up his pulsing muscle until they’re closed around his mushroom head, smearing pre-cum against her palm. Never having done this before, her touch is gentle and curious as she traces the thick vein on the underside of his cock. Slowly, she rubs the palm of her hand over his slit, coating her palm with his slick until he's whimpering.

Her eyes are glued to his face with rapt attention, eager to learn what turns him on and what doesn't as her fingertips start to flutter up and down his length. She watches his eyes roll back into his head and his eyelids fall closed as her strokes gain in speed. Still reeling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, she feels her pussy tingle as Daryl twitches and hisses from her touch.

What she lacks in finesse she makes up for in enthusiasm and her confidence blooms when he suddenly lets out a low moan. He squeezes her knee as she tightens her grip, moving faster and faster as she feels his cock grow hot and hard in her fist.  

It isn't long before his face twists in sweet agony and the room is filled with Daryl’s tortured howl. The sound sets Beth’s heart aflame as hot reams of cum pour from his cock and dribble down her knuckles. Beth watches in fascination as his hips jump and stutter, muscles turning to liquid as all of the tension ripples out of his body.

When his eyelids drift open a moment later, the gaze that meets hers is cracked open and raw.

“ _Beth,_ ” He gasps, before slumping forward, arm going around her waist and curling himself around her as he sinks heavily into the mattress.

His face nuzzles into the cradle of her shoulder, squeezing her against him so tightly it should hurt but somehow it doesn't. Being pressed together as tight as can be she feels as though she's reached a deeper part of him; or a deeper part of him has reached out to her.

His ragged pants blast across her skin until they gradually become even and shallow. As she feels the air from his mouth tickle the nape of her neck her mouth curls into a smile.

The rhythm of his racing chest pounds against her back and she lets her head roll back so that his pulse throbs against hers. Beth closes her eyes as she feels the steady beat of his heart and listens to the sound of his breath. His exhales eventually become slow and shallow as  he drifts into a deep sleep. With her sticky hand covering his around her waist, she follows him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was that! I hope you enjoyed it, and remember to let me know what you think :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the wake up call from hell, Beth finds out what's got Daryl so rattled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and reviewing, it means the world to me <3 
> 
> Unfortunately, I'm not going to be updating any of my fics for a while. I'm taking a break from writing because I just need to focus on other things right now. If you're mad or sad about it just know that I'm sad about it too and I wish this wasn't the case. I love writing. I miss it already. Hopefully I will be back soon! 
> 
> Enjoy the update, I hope you're happy with where I've left these two for now. 
> 
> Thank you to LeighJ for always loving my stories first and knowing exactly how to make them better.

Beth's heart is an alarm bell ringing in her ears as her body senses danger and violently shakes her from sleep. Her fingers clench in the sheet as the mattress tremors beneath her, only to find it damp against her palm. In a daze she turns her body towards the source of the movement and when she finds it she can’t breathe. She's frozen. Shocked. Unable to comprehend what's unfolding before her eyes.

_Daryl._

There’s a sheen of sweat covering his skin, dripping down to soak the sheets beneath him. He’s sweating so much it’s damp beneath her as well, and that’s what she can feel against her palm.  His body thrashes about, jerking violently from side to side as though under attack. A series of broken moans are thrown from his mouth between ragged breaths and then the noise shrinks to a whimper that slices through Beth like a knife. Under his wild hair his eyes are closed, eyelids pulsing rapidly and jaw clenched so tight Beth’s own aches in sympathy.

Her eyes dart to his mouth in disbelief because she's never heard him make a noise like that before. She almost doesn’t believe it's coming from him until she sees his lips move and her gut clenches. The sound is audible pain. She feels it in her core. Raw agony pushing out from behind his teeth. He's hurting.

 _He's hurtin' himself_.

A realisation sobers her; she has to stop this. She has to wake him.

_Now._

“Daryl,” She says softly as she watches a violent tremor rack his frame.

When he ducks his head with another whimper, Beth edges closer. His hands twitch at his sides as he digs his chin into his collar bones, bowing his head as low as possible. The sawing of his breath moving in and out of his chest speeds up until its one continuous frenzied sound. It doesn't even sound like breathing anymore. The air is moving back and forth too quickly for the oxygen to make its way into his bloodstream.

 He's hyperventilating.

 “Daryl, wake up,” She says a little louder as she edges closer.

Another whimper cuts Beth to the core and instinctively her hand stretches out in front of her.

Tentatively, she lays a hand on his chest.

Something solid connects with her abdomen and throws her from the bed, driving the air from her lungs in an instant. The next thing she feels is her cheekbone slamming against the hardwood floor. Numbness gives way to tingling and suddenly pain shatters the left side of her face. Gritting her teeth, she swallows it down, pushing herself up quickly and swinging her gaze in search of Daryl.

Hunched over with his forearms shielding his face – _as if from an oncoming blow –_ she watches a tremble descend his spine. His rippling muscles catch the moonlight as they quiver and clench brokenly. Even in the half-light, she can make out the dark lines of scar tissue that litter his back.

_Belt marks._

_Oh._

_Oh no._

Suddenly and violently something clicks into place. The way he's huddled and trembling; he's the image of a beaten child.

_Because he was._

_Oh God._

_He was Sam._

“Daryl,” She whispers softly as she crawls back onto the bed, being careful not to make any sudden movements or get too close.

He looks at her through his hair, slick with sweat and plastered to his face and neck.

“Beth,” Daryl gasps, sat bolt upright and trembling, his eyes wild as they connect with hers.

The sour scent of Daryl’s fear sweat is soaking the air. Beth sits stone-still on the bed, heart crawling into her throat as she stares back at him. His face drained of blood, he looks pale and sick, dark circles etched beneath his eyes.

After a moment, Daryl scrambles across the bed and buries his face in her middle. Beth gasps as something hot and wet begins seeping through her vest. _Tears_. He's crying. Fear spilling out of him into her warm embrace.

She draws in a slow breath and lifts a hand to card through his hair, pushing it back from his face. She keeps stroking her fingers slowly across his scalp and his unsteady breathing starts to fall into a rhythm.  They stay like that for a long time, Daryl’s breath against her rib cage where he’s pillowed against her chest, listening to her heart beat, her hands in his hair.

“My ol' man was a drunk,” Daryl murmurs into the  darkness, still and silent but for their breathing, “Used to beat on my mom, an’ Merle when he was around.”

Beth’s fingers curl in his hair as she feels something wrap around her heart and squeeze.

“My mom put a bolt on the inside of her closet,” He says, opening his eyes and looking at Beth. Her insides turn to ice because she knows what he’s going to say. She knows because she already heard it earlier on the porch steps. She feels an unbearable ache when she thinks about how hearing it must have come as such an unexpected blow for Daryl. To have something like that come out of nowhere, flay him open and dig up his childhood pain. 

His gaze is ducked, submitting to her gentle touch, “Sometimes she’d tell me to lock myself in, an’ not come out till mornin’.”

Beth’s fingers card through where his hair is longest and rest on the nap of his neck, palm flattening against his skin.

“I could hear my daddy yellin’, stuff breakin’, my mama cryin’,” Daryl whispers, voice straining with all the emotion locked in his memories, “All I wanted was to _protect her,_ but I wasn’ strong enough.”

The ache in Beth’s chest radiates through her entire being, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp at something so _wrong_. Yet, after all the bad things that have been done to him, Daryl is one of the good things in this world.

He turns his head away as Beth’s fingers slide down the thick corded muscles of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. His arms tighten around her, pressing his face deeper into her soft belly.  Her fingers continue to drift lightly across his shoulder. When they come across scar tissue they stop.

“That was for talkin’ back,” Daryl murmurs.

Beth’s eyes widen. Her fingertips carefully trace the outline of the gnarled scar before continuing to stroke soft circles across his back. It isn’t long before her fingertips catch the ridge of raised skin streaking the space between his shoulder blades. The scar is dark, even in the low light and almost cuts across the entire muscled landscape of Daryl’s back. Beth’s gut twists, thinking how hard he must have been hit, how many times, to leave such a deep and visceral scar.

 “That was for not answerin’,” Dary says. His eyes flash to Beth, briefly, then away.

Teeth dig into her bottom lip as she thinks about Daryl as a boy, torn between his fear of what will happen if he speaks and his fear of the repercussions if he doesn’t. How that reluctance to speak still lingers. How his eyes still scan people's faces for cues he looks like he'll live or die by. It makes sense now, his wary silence. The cruel conditioning that he endured shaped him this way, and not all of the scars from his childhood can  be seen.

Beth sighs. What do you say to something like that? She presses a lingering kiss to his temple, his sweat salty on her lips.

“Thank you for tellin’ me,” She whispers softly, brushing her hand through his hair again. Daryl closes his eyes and sighs, his breathing coming out slow and steady.

“After she died, I didn’ lock myself in the closet no more,” Daryl murmurs, “Took the beatin’s instead.”

Beth’s heart shudders and she feels a little of the tension leave Daryl’s arms as he slowly becomes a dead weight against her middle, not long for sleep.

“I know it’s fucked up, but it made me feel closer to her somehow.”

“It’s not fucked up,” Beth says, her hand curling around his skull and staying there, “It wasn’t your fault, Daryl.”

Daryl lets out a shuddering breath that Beth feels in the pit of her stomach.

They don’t talk after that. Beth watches Daryl’s back rise and fall until he drifts into a rumbling slumber. She keeps her arms curled loosely around his head all night, as though her embrace could protect him from any more harm. But she knows there’s nothing left in this world that can hurt Daryl Dixon, except what’s inside his own head.

It's horrible, and it's painful. God, it hurts just to look at him, to see the unrelenting pain in his eyes like his skin has been flayed off leaving him raw and vulnerable. But it's out there now. Which means it isn't _in there_ anymore.

He's not ok, not yet, but it's a start. He'll start to heal, and he'll be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final fix: Daryl


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning sheds light on some harsh realities for Beth and Daryl, but a trip beyond the walls leads them to find something lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Did you miss me?
> 
> I've been looking forward to writing this particular fix for a while and I'm really pleased with how it turned out. I hope you like it too! 
> 
> Thank you to LeighJ for betaing <3

When Beth wakes she’s confused at first by the solid heat nestled against her front, and the feeling of hair between her stirring fingers. Looking down, she sees Daryl’s head pillowed across her stomach and beyond that his naked back. Her eyes stop with sobering focus on the violent scars, glaring stark and vivid in the beams of sunlight falling across his skin.  

Her jaw tightens as she sees them clearly for the first time, lit up in all their sick and twisted glory. Age has dulled them some, since Daryl got them when he was just a boy, yet they are as prominent on his flesh as the ink decorating his shoulder blade.  The pain he must have endured is unfathomable to her. It makes her angry in a way she doesn't recognise. Her blood runs cold with the urge to take the life of the man who did this to Daryl and the cold fire in her belly tells her that she _could_ if he weren’t already dead.

Her fingers card through Daryl’s hair absently and he starts to stir.  
  
"M'sorry," She mumbles softly, her voice thick with sleep, "Didn' mean t' wake you."  
  
Daryl turns his head, rubbing his jaw against her belly, tickling her bare skin with his stubble as he squeezes her where she's caged in between his huge arms.

Tipping his head back, he blinks up at her, his face soft with sleep. Then their eyes catch and he freezes.

“What the hell happened?” He demands, his voice rough but quavering at the edge with just a hint of fear. 

His hands are up and turning her face to get a closer look before he’s finished speaking, thick fingers tracing her swollen cheekbone. She flinches when the pad of his thumb presses into her bruise and she feels the tremor that runs through Daryl as his hands spring away.

“Beth?” He moves his head into her line of sight forcing her to meet his eyes. When she does they’re wild and unsettled, _pained._

She doesn’t know what to say, but her hesitation says enough; it says it all. She watches something shatter in his gaze as realisation dawns on his face.  
  
“I did this?” His voice trembles at the edges, begging for it not to be true. She would do anything to be able to tell him no, anything except lie to him.  
  
“It was an acc-“  
  
His face twists as he jerks his head back, violently recoiling from her words.  
  
_“Don't.”_  
  
“Daryl…”  
  
He shakes his head, “Don' make excuses for what I did.”

He's looking anywhere but at her. He’s glaring at his hands like they’ve betrayed him. Beth knows he’s not looking at her because he can’t; because it _hurts_ when he does _._ His pain is as palpable as it was last night, polluting the air between them and making it hard to breathe. She feels it in her chest, aching with each shallow inhale.

She feels him start to pull away and the ache turns to a burn, raging in protest. Every muscle pulls too tight and then something inside her snaps.  
  
_No._  
  
He doesn't get to do this. He doesn't get to pull away. Not while her heart still beats. She won't let him.  
  
Beth reaches forward and laces her fingers with his. When he makes to move his hand away she squeezes hers tight, so tight his startled eyes fly up to hers.  
  
" _You won't ever leave me_ ," She tells him plaintively, throwing his own words back at him and taking no pleasure in the agony that ripples across his face.  
  
“ _Beth_ ,” He rasps, her name crawling out of his throat like a safe word.  
  
Her heart stutters in pain, but she doesn’t relent, “You _promised.”_  
  
Daryl looks down, staring at their linked fingers. He gnaws at the inside of his lip, his eyes locked and shining.  
  
When he speaks his voice is raw, broken.

“You ain't safe with me no more.”

Beth swallows down the urge to cry, blinking back hot tears and tightening her fingers around his rough callouses.  
  
“Daryl, look at me,” She whispers.

There’s a beat and then he reluctantly lifts his gaze to meet hers. His head bowed painfully deep against his broad chest in the perfect juxtaposition of strength and weakness. His eyes ripple as fear flows in and out of him like a tide.

“We're safe when we're together,” She says, stroking the pad of her thumb over his knuckle. Feeling his fingers twitch beneath hers, she drops her gaze to their joined hands. His huge and tanned fingers entwined with her slim white digits.  
  
“Safe as we can be, anyway,” She concedes, rolling her head back to gaze at the side of his downturned face.  
  
She can see him wrestling with it: his need to be with her verses his fear of hurting her. But she also knows the former will win out. Knows that the pull she has on him mirrors the one he has on her; it cannot be denied or ignored. To be apart, now, after everything, would break him. She knows that because it would break her. Beth could live without him, yes, she could breathe, but she wouldn’t be whole.  
  
When she pulls his hand into her lap and he lets her she knows the fight is over. Curling her other hand around his knuckles, she holds his huge hand between hers. His palm burns hot against her skin. She lifts their hands up and presses a feather-light kiss to his worried thumb, kicking an  explosive breath out from behind his bitten lips.  
  
"You're not like your daddy," Beth says softly. She feels his entire body go ramrod straight at her words, but she needs to say it. He needs to hear it.  
  
"This isn't like that. This was an accident,” She tells him gently but firmly, watching his face twist in discomfort, “You could never hurt me on purpose, it's not in you."  
  
He raises his eyes to look at her from behind his hair, wary and with a question.

“What makes ya so sure?” He asks, his voice low and rough as it scrapes it’s way past his throat.  
  
“Because I know you,” Beth says, the corners of her mouth tugging up. She can't help but smile because she’s never been so sure of anything in her life than the heart of gold beating in Daryl Dixon’s chest.  
  
The awed look on his face is like a magnet, and she finds herself leaning forward to press her lips against his.

He whines plaintively, letting his mouth fall open beneath hers. There's a quickening inside her when his hot palm finds the bare skin on the small of her back and she suddenly remembers their state of undress. She lets go of his hand only to loop her arms around his thick neck and press their torsos flush together. Her hand slides against the back of his neck, slick with sweat from the heat of his palm, as she crawls into his lap.

While at other times their coming together has been frantic or heated, this is neither of those things. Tangled together, they explore each other's mouths, softly seeking skin and meeting each other’s unspoken need for nothing more than proximity. Daryl's hands are hesitant as he carefully cups the back of her neck, burying his fingers in her loose hair; torn between not trusting himself to touch her and being unable not to.

When they pull apart, Beth watches Daryl's eyes flash with hurt as they take in her face, tracking the swollen bruise across her cheek.

She lifts her hand to cup his face, her thumb dragging across his sharp cheekbone. Warily, he does the same, his hand mirroring hers to curl around her jaw, thumb hovering over the apple of her cheek. This time when his thumb ghosts across her plump cheekbone she doesn’t flinch. It’s already healing. Soon the mark will fade, but Beth knows Daryl’s guilt will linger even when it’s gone.  
  
  
When they eventually dress and make their way downstairs they discover the house is empty. Beth feels relief wash over her like a summer shower. She had been dreading Maggie's scrutiny upon seeing her face, and the knock on effect it would have on Daryl in his fragile state. Maggie's inevitable questions and Beth's attempts to dismiss them could easily shatter him all over again. They’ve still got to cross that bridge, but not this morning, thank God.  
  
A scrawled note from Maggie lets them know that she is working with Deanna today, and that Glenn is going out on a run with Aiden. They aren’t wasting any time in settling in to their new roles.

 _We all have jobs to do._  

Looking across the kitchen at Daryl, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast, Beth remembers that they have jobs too.  
  
  
On the way to Aaron’s, they pass Jessie's house. Beth sees Daryl's jaw tighten in the corner of her eye and feels her stomach do the same. Before they left the porch last night, Rick had said he would speak to Deanna today and inform her of what’s going on with Pete and Jessie. She has exiled people before Beth had pointed out, but Rick said that would put the community in danger. There was only one way it would end, Carol insisted. Either way, it's Deanna's call.

Something doesn't sit right with Beth, leaving while this situation is hanging in the air like a bad smell. Rick's eyes are a piercing shade of blue and she just prays that he doesn't do anything stupid while they're gone. She's got that feeling in her stomach like when you leave the house and you're not sure if you've turned the stove off. But her focus is Daryl. He needs her right now, and he needs to be outside today; killing walkers and hunting.

Carol will have to keep an eye on Rick until they get back, then they can deal with this mess together. Tonight she'll talk to Maggie, hopefully she can bridge the gap between Deanna and Rick. They'll find a way to make it work.

  
  
Aaron's eyes linger on the side of Beth's face but he doesn't say anything, as she knew he wouldn't. He even has the decency to look faintly embarrassed when their eyes meet and it's clear he was staring. Thankfully, Daryl's attention is elsewhere, though on what Beth can't be sure. Maybe on tracking, maybe just lost in thought. She hopes the former, suspecting his thoughts aren't a safe place for him right now.

They're further out than before when they come across a paddock and in the middle of it there he is: Buttons.

For a moment, Beth is completely mesmerised, just watching him move with equine power and grace.  
Horses remind Beth of home more than anything else. The familiar smell of horse sweat and hay fills her nose, despite being some distance from Buttons. It doesn't just remind her of home but the feeling of being safe and happy, confident and in control. The way she used to feel when she was in the saddle. No matter what troubles were on her mind, they all went away when she was riding. Then her field of vision widens and she sees them; the dead, circling him like crows.

“Gotta move quick. He’s pinned in with ‘em,” Daryl grunts as he passes her, crossbow bouncing as he breaks into a run. Aaron races past her other shoulder and she follows close behind.

“I got the far ones,” Daryl calls across to them, his sharp eyes quickly taking measure of the walkers.

In front of her, Aaron suddenly stumbles to the ground, tripping on a body hidden in the long grass. The same body lurches forward and grabs his leg, dragging him backwards. Daryl turns and strides back, putting his boot through the walker’s skull in one brutal movement.

“Thanks,” Aaron groans, lifting his shotgun as Beth keeps going, racing past them.

The sudden, deafening sound of Aaron’s gunshot spooks Buttons and he rears back violently, hooves thrashing in the air. The whites of his eyes wave dangerously even from a distance as he panics, whinnying frantically and backing himself further into a corner. At least a dozen snarling walkers close in on him, rank limbs outstretched. He whinnies again, louder and more desperately, as they stumble closer, his frenzied cries drawing even more of them. He can’t get away. There’s too many. They’re too close.

_No._

Beth pushes forward, moving her legs faster and faster until they ache and her breath burns in her lungs. The walker closest to Buttons yanks its jaw open obscenely, yellow teeth parted and ready to sink into the horse’s shining coat.  Powered by her momentum, Beth knocks it out of the way using the full weight of her slight body. Darting through the opening she’s created, Beth grabs hold of Button’s mane and vaults up onto his back. Without giving him a moment to question what's happening, she fists her hands in the horse’s hair and digs her heels gently into his flanks.

_Go. Please, go._

Maybe he knows she’s put her life on the line with his. Maybe he’s smart enough to know the walkers are their common enemy. Maybe it’s just muscle memory from before when he belonged to someone.

All Beth knows is they’re suddenly in motion as Buttons canters forward.

_Oh, thank God._

Holding on to his mane, Beth tugs on the left side, steering him away from the fence, and the groaning dead staggering close behind them. In the open space, Buttons speeds up and gallops past Daryl and Aaron’s shocked faces. Beth clenches her thighs around his back, leaning forward and holding onto his withers, as she encourages him to put as much distance between them and the walkers as he needs.

For a moment they’re flying. Everything fades away except the wind in her hair, the sun on her face and the steady motion of her horse beneath her. She could be back on the farm, racing Maggie across the fields or trying to out run the rain clouds back to the stables. It’s everything she’s ever known and lost.

When they near the other side of the paddock, Buttons gradually slows to a trot. With some effort, Beth eases her grip and stretches forward to flatten her palm against his smooth coat. He slows to a stop and she strokes her hand down his neck softly.

“Thank you,” She whispers, letting out a shaky breath. She isn’t entirely sure who saved who back there.

Turning her gaze back across the field she sees Daryl and Aaron running towards her, the walkers taken care of. The absence of any further gunshots tells her they must have taken them down by bow and knife. For that she is grateful. Gunshots upset him, she notes. Unfortunate, given the circumstances. Fortunately, Beth has experience with nervous horses. Nervous Nelly was _her_ horse, after all, back on the farm. Daddy had been so mad when Daryl had taken her out and lost her. She'd been with them since she was just a filly; her nervous disposition only serving to deepen their affection for her.  

When Daryl and Aaron see her looking their way they slow their pace, reassured that she isn’t in any trouble. Buttons raises his head from where he’s begun grazing and they come to a halt. Daryl’s eyes connect with Beth’s, checking in as he pulls rope from somewhere and makes a lasso. When Beth nods he gingerly takes a step forward. Buttons snorts and shuffles back, skittishly swishing his tail from side to side.

Leaning further forward, Beth smooths her hands down his neck.

“Shh, s’alright,” She soothes, “He’s with us.”

Eyes trained on Buttons now, Daryl takes another measured step forward. The horse’s nostrils flare soundlessly as he lets Daryl approach. Once he's a few feet away, Daryl stops, holding his hand out in front of him. Buttons stamps his hooves, tail swishing back and forth with uncertainty. Daryl doesn't move, standing his ground as Beth keeps petting his neck. After a long moment, he leans forward and nuzzles into Daryl's open palm.

Scratching the horse’s nose with one hand, Daryl brings the rope up and over his ears with the other. Seemingly oblivious, Buttons begins pushing at Daryl's pockets in search of food, his ears forward and flickering, at ease between them.  
  
Daryl's piercing blue eyes slide up to Beth’s and she feels her heart swell as they lock with hers.

“Y'alright?” He rumbles.

She grins back at him, butterflies erupting in her chest. It’s a win, and they could all do with a win right now.  

“I’m good,” She says, leaning back and letting some of the tension out of her legs, getting used to the seat beneath her.

“Girl, that was some real cowboy shit you pulled back there,” Daryl smirks, running his hand up the horse’s forehead.

Beth laughs, the grin on her face stretching from ear to ear with pure joy. She doesn't think she's ever seen Daryl look so _impressed._

“Was ridin' ‘fore I could walk,” She says, rolling a shoulder.

Daryl holds her gaze, head tipping back as though taking her in and she feels a blush creep across her cheeks at the barely contained awe in his eyes.

As Aaron approaches slowly from the side, he holds his arm out, proffering an apple to Buttons on his outstretched palm. The horse takes it eagerly.

Aaron turns to Beth, an easy smile lighting up his face as Buttons mouths at his empty palm, “I knew you'd be good at this. First day on the job and you've already convinced your first recruit to come back with us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed: Buttons ending up as walker chow

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to let me know what you think ❤


End file.
